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ECLECTIC ENGLISH CLASSICS 



MILTON'S 

L'ALLEGRO, IL PENSEROSO 
COMUS, AND LYCIDAS 



EDITED BY 

PHILO MELVYN BUCK, JR. 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC, UNIVERSITY OF 
NEBRASKA 



NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI -:• CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 



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«.'*>^^ 

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Copyright, 1894 and 191 1, by 
American Book Company 



MILTON 
W. P. I* 



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©CLA'^SGOGl 



INTRODUCTION. 



John Milton was born in London in 1608. He was edu- 
cated at Christ's College, Cambridge, where he graduated in 1632. 
While yet a student, he wrote several of his shorter poems, and 
the hymn '' On the Morning of Christ's Nativity." Between 
1632 and 1638 he wrote ''Arcades," '' Comus," '' Lycidas," 
"L'Allegro," and ''II Penseroso." In 1638 he visited France 
and Italy, returning to England in the following year. From 
that time until after the restoration of Charles II., in 1660, he 
published no poetry, but was actively engaged in political con- 
troversy, or occupied with his official duties as Latin secretary to 
Cromwell. His greatest work, " Paradise Lost," begun in 1658, 
was published in 1665. " Paradise Regained " and "Samson 
Agonistes" were both published in 167 1. Milton died in 1674. 

In the four poems comprising this volume we have the best 
of the earlier works of John Milton. No criticism of them has 
been more widely accepted than the statement that they proved, 
upon their first appearance, that another true poet had arisen 
in England. Written between the years 1632 and 1638, when 
great questions of Church and State were disturbing the minds of 
the Enghsh people, and preparing the way for the Puritan Revo- 
lution which very soon followed, they naturally reflect in some 

3 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

measure the spirit of the times. In the heroic age of Elizabeth, 
which had just passed away, each subject had seemed to feel 
that he must uphold the honor of the English name at any cost. 
The influence of the spirit of chivalry had bound men together 
in the common ties of loyalty and national pride, and was*appar- 
ent not more in the heroic achievements of Raleigh and of Drake 
than in the immortal works of Shakespeare and of Spenser. But 
now, under the tyranny of Charles L, and amid the rapid growth 
of commercial influences, the ennobling sentiments which had 
formerly shaped men's actions were being gradually stifled. The 
bonds of unfaltering loyalty and unquestioning obedience were 
being forced asunder by the opposition which royal despotism had: 
aroused ; and every thinking mind was being swayed by religious! 
unrest, or was seeking refuge in dogmatic assertion and ecclesi- 
astical authority. Even in literature a great change was appar- 
ent ; '' for a reaction had taken place from poetical impulse and 

heroic achievement to prosaic weariness and worldly wisdom.'l 

I 
In order, therefore, to understand the deeper import and mean^ 

ing of these early poems of Milton, one should enter upon theii 

study with some knowledge of the conditions of life and thoughp 

and purpose which prevailed at the time of their composition^' i 

and should bear in mind the influence which these must hav^i 

had upon the poet and his utterances. • * 

John Milton graduated from Christ's College, Cambridge, ii 

1632, when twenty-four years of age. During the six year* 

which followed, he remained in his father's home at Hortor 

Buckinghamshire ; and it was there that he wrote these poem^- 

One might have supposed that the courtly manners of his earl 

home, his musical tastes, and the teachings of his father woul 

have bred in him a disinclination for the strict, self-denying lif 



INTRODUCTION, 5 

of Puritanism. But he could not be oblivious to the underlying 
excellence of the Puritan doctrines, or neglectful of the demands 
of the times. To him, Duty was ever '' the stern daughter of the 
voice of God.'* 

In '' L'Allegro " (The Cheerful Man) and '' II Penseroso " (The 
Thoughtful Man) Milton presents, for his own contemplation and 
ours, pictures of the two paths which seemed at that time to open 
before him, — the life of a Courtier or Cavalier, and the life of a 
Puritan. He gives Italian titles to these poems, perhaps because 
there are no English equivalents which are exactly applicable to 
his ideals. In the first instance, to say ^' A Mirthful Man " would 
suggest a character too shallow or too frivolous, while the ex- 
pression ''A Cheerful Man" would fail to convey his entire mean- 
ing ; in the other case, to write of " A Thoughtful Man " would 
call up the image of a student or a philosopher, and lead to a 
hasty misjudgment of the intent of the poem. 

Each poem describes the pursuits and pleasures of twelve 
hours. L'Allegro is introduced to us at the first peep of dawn, 
listening to the cheerful song of the lark, the cockcrowing, and 
the music of the huntsman's horn; then the fieldworkers are 
observed at their various tasks; the landscape, with its ever 
changing beauties, dehghts the eye ; the humble cottage and the 
lordly castle each contributes a picture to the scene ; and when 
the day's duties are at an end, the evening is spent in social 
dehghts, in story-telhng, in the reading of Jonson's comedies or 
Shakespeare's " wood-notes wild," or in listening to soft strains of 
music, 

*' Untwisting all the chains that tie 
The hidden soul of harmony." 



6 IXTRODUCTIOX. 

II Penseroso starts out in the early evening hours ; he Hstens 
to the song of the nightingale, or, as he walks in the moonlight, 
hears the far-off curfew sound; he spends the evening in the 
contemplation of the great tragedies of antiquity, or devotes the 
later hours of the night to the study of the mysteries of life and 
immortality ; and with the break of day he betakes himself to ^ 
some quiet nook in the w^oods, or listens, under the " high-em- 
bowed roof " of church or cathedral, to the ecstatic music of 
full-voiced choir and pealing organ. 

Thus Mirth and Seriousness each finds its own enjoyments in 
life ; but it is plain that the poet's sym^pathies are vv^ith the latter. 
Perhaps, all unwitting to himself, he thus intimates the ultimate 
choice of his life, — to ally himself with the seriousness of Puri- \ 
tanism rather than permit the mirth of the Cavaliers to tempt him 
from the plain path of duty. Both poems are nature lyrics, with j 
a reflective background which the reader must discover for him- ' 
self. Strictly speaking, they are not descriptive poems ; for '' the 
charm of nature poetry is not its description — its rivalry with a 
painting of the scene; it is the suggestive power of objects toj 
stimulate the imagination." It is in this quality that the beauty p 
and excellence of these two poems is chiefly to be found. 

'' Comus," the third poem in this collection, is a dramatic com- ^ 
position, — *' a fine example of the high literary masque." This! 
species of drama, which is of Italian origin, was introduced into 
England as early as the reign of Henry VIII., and when " Comus "; 
was written it was in the height of its popularity. It combined' 
lyric poetry, declamation, dialogue, music, and dancing, the whole 
being set off with elaborate scenery. When, as in this case, the 
hterary element predominated, the performance was much like 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

that of an ordinary drama ; but when the poem was subordinate 
to the scenery, the result was a pageant. 

" Comus " was written for presentation at Ludlow Castle, 
Shropshire, on Michaelmas night, 1634, the occasion being the 
induction of the Earl of Bridgewater into the office of Lord 
President of Wales, to which he had been appointed some three 
years before. Henry Lawes, a distinguished musical composer, 
had been intrusted with the preparation of an entertainment, or 
masque, to be performed in connection with the other festivities 
of the evening, and it was at his request that Milton undertook 
the composition of the poem. The leading parts in the play — 
those of the Lady and her Brothers — were taken by the Earl of 
Bridgewater's three children, while the part of the Attendant 
Angel was performed by Lawes himself. The names of those 
who personated Comus and Sabrina have not been preserved. 
The presentation took place in the great hall of Ludlow Castle, 
on a stage erected for the purpose at one end of the room. 

The story which the play brings out is said to have had some 
foundation in fact. There is a popular tradition, still extant in 
Shropshire, to the effect that the tlu-ee children of the Earl of 
Bridgewater were actually overtaken by nightfall and separated 
from one another in Haywood Forest near Ludlow. *' If this 
ever took place, and news of it reached Milton's ears, then he 
simply dramatized the episode ; but it is far more probable that 
the legend, which dates from the last century, grew out of the 
masque, than vice versa ^ 

In the writing of this masque Milton borrowed suggestions 
and ideas from many sources. The main incidents of the story 
are almost identical with those related in a play entitled " The 
Old Wives' Tale " by George Peele, published nearly forty years 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

before. Comus, as the personification of revelry, appears in 
Ben Jonson's masque of '' Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue " (pub-' 
lished in 1619), where he is apostrophized as 

*' The founder of taste 
For fresh meats, or powdered, or pickled, or paste ; I 

An emptier of cups." 

Ii 

He also appears in a Latin play, entitled '' Comus," writtenf 
by Hendrik van der Putten, a Dutch professor at Louvain, and' 
republished at Oxford in 1634. With this play as well as withj 
Jonson's masque, Milton was no doubt familiar. In the writing' 
of the last part of the poem — the disenchantment scene — he;' 
owed not a little to Fletcher's pastoral drama, ''The Faithful' 
Shepherdess," which was very popular in the London theaters 
in 1633. In other passages the influence of earlier poets, and! 
especially of Spenser, is plainly apparent. But whatever he may' 
have borrowed, Milton infused into it new life and a new charm,; 
not only presenting it in a highly improved form, but breathing! 
into it the breath of fresh suggestion. ' 

The poem, besides having an obvious moral signification, wasf 
probably intended by Milton to admit of a deep allegorical inter-i 
pretation. In it may be seen the influence of Spenser's " Faerie 
Queen e " upon the thought and literary methods of the poet.:' 
Did he intend Comus to represent the corrupt influences of the! 
then existing Court and Church, and the Lady and her friends to' 
personify Virtue and her champions? Or did he intend to por-i 
tray the conflict which is waged between Body and Soul, result-' 
ing finally in the complete triumph of the higher nature over the,' 
lower ? '' The bare fact that Milton wrote ' Comus ' showed that ■ 
he had not yet gone over to help the party which bore an unrea-| j 



IX TROD UCTIOX, 9 

soning hatred of all amusements. On the other hand, the whole 
tone of the poem was a rebuke to the seekers of mere pleasiu-e. 
The revel god personified the worst elements of court hfe. In 
his overthrow Milton allegorically foreshadowed the downfall 
of those who led that life. Two hundred and fifty years ago 
' Comus ' was terribly real, as a warning against the danger upon 
which the ship of national life w^as drifting. But the theme is 
true yesterday, to-day, and forever ; and the art with which it is 
set off remains undimmed, the wisdom unfading." (Verity.) 

" Lycidas," the fourth and last poem in the collection, is Mil- 
ton's tribute to his college friend and companion, Edward King. 
Milton and King had studied and written together, and their 
tastes and piu-suits were in many respects identical. After grad- 
uation, King had remained at Cambridge, first as fellow, then as 
tutor, vd\h the expectation of soon being ordained for the Church. 
In 1637 he embarked on a vessel at Chester, intending to go 
over into Ireland, to spend the long vacation wath his relatives 
there. When hardly out to sea, in calm weather, the vessel 
foundered upon a rock, and nearly all on board were drowned. 
In the same autumn, King^s friends at Cambridge pubhshed a 
volume of verses dedicated to his memory, and to this volume 
Milton contributed " Lycidas." 

The poem begins with the intimation that only grief for his dead 
friend had induced the poet to forego a resolution not to write 
more until he should be better able to attain to the high ideal he 
had chosen. In pastoral allegory he refers briefly to their com- 
mon tasks and pursuits, and represents all nature as bewailing the 
loss of Lycidas. Yet the reflection that naught could interpose 
to save his friend induces Milton to question the wisdom of 



lo INTRODUCTION, i 

human toil and aspiration. What is fame? Is it not a vain iri 
firmity? But then he is reminded that true fame is of no earthl; 
growth, and that Heaven alone can declare what shall be th| 
reward of man's work. Then, returning to his grief for Lycida^ 
he listens to Triton, who makes inquiry concerning the cause c 
the shipwreck ; to Camus, asking mournfully who has bereft hiij 
of his dearest pledge; and to St. Peter, bewailing the loss d 
so promising a youth. This leads him into another digression 
wherein he rebukes the worldliness and greed of the clergy of tl: 
time, and by imphcation foretells their downfall. Then the po< 
resumes his strain, bidding all the flowers of wood and plain 1 
bring their tribute to the memory of Lycidas; and finally he' 
persuaded that the youth is not dead, but has been transportdl 
to "the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love," and w^ill lii 
henceforth as the Genius of the shore. The shepherds are bij 
den to dry their tears ; and the poet declares that other subjed 
of thought and effort shall hereafter claim his attention — 

I 
" To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new. " j 

** He who wishes to know whether he has a true taste 1 

poetry or not, should consider whether he is highly delighted ; 

not with the perusal of Milton's ' Lycidas.' " These are t 

words of Milton's enthusiastic critic and biographer, Mark P 

1 
tison. They may be too high praise; but perhaps no poeml 

the English language has compressed into so narrow space 
much of thought and beauty. It must be read and reread 
be appreciated.^ • 

1 For further introductory matter see the end of this volume. | 



L'ALLEGRO, 



Hence, loathed Melancholy, 

Of Cerberus 1 and blackest Midnight born 
In Stygian cave forlorn 

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! 
Find out some uncouth cell, 

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, 
And the night raven sings ; 

There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, 
As ragged as thy locks, . 

In dark Cimmerian desert ^ ever dwell. lo 

But come, thou Goddess fair and free, 
In heaven yclept ^ Euphrosyne, 
And by men heart-easing Mirth ; 
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, 
With two sister Graces ^ more, 
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore : 

1 Cerberus was the three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to the 
infernal regions. His den, the *' Stygian cave forlorn," was on the farther 
bank of the river Styx, where the spirits of the dead were landed from Cha- 
ron's boat. The Styx was the chief river of the lower world. 

2 The country of the Cimmerii, a sunless region on the confines.of the 
lower world, where the spirits of the dead were condemned to sojourn awhile, 
ere they were admitted into Hades. (See Guerber.) 

3 A corruption of the past participle of the Anglo-Saxon word clipian ('* to 
call "). It is frequently used by the older poets. 

4 The three Graces were Euphrosyne (the mirthful), Aglaia (the bright), 
and Thalia (the blooming). Classical writers do not agree as to their parent- 
age. That hey were the daughters of Venus (love) and Bacchus (good 

II 



12 MILTON, 

Or whether (as some sager sing) i 

The froHc wind that breathes the spring, 

Zephyr, with Aurora playing, 

As he met her once a-Maying,^ 20 

There, on beds of violets blue. 

And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, 

Filled her with thee, a daughter fair, 

So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 

Haste thee. Nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest, and youthful Jollity, 

Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, 

Nods and becks and wreathed smiles, 

Such as hang on Hebe's ^ cheek, 

And love to live in dimple sleek ; 30 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 

And Laughter holding both his sides. 

Come, and trip it, as you go. 

On the light fantastic toe ; 

And in thy right hand lead with thee 

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;* 

And, if I give thee honor due, 

Mirth, admit ^ me of thy crew, 

cheer), or perhaps rather of Zephyr (the *' frolic wind") and Aurora (the 
morning) seems best to harmonize with Milton's conception of their character, 
and especially of that of Euphrosyne (mirth). 

1 " As some," etc., i.e., as some wiser (ones) sing. 

2 Enjoying the sports of May Day, as was forrrierly the custom in England. 
In Old English it was not uncommon to prefix ** on " or *' a" to a verbal 
noun after verbs of motion ; as in " We go a-fishing." 

3 The goddess of youth, and cupbearer to the gods. 

4 Note the reason for calling Liberty a mountain nymph. The environ- 
ment of mountainous regions has doubtless aided in developing physical 
strength and the desire to use nature's defenses in the maintenance of 
freedom. Mountainous Switzerland, with its liberty-loving people, may be 
mentioned as an example. 

5 The word '* admit " is sometimes equivalent to " permit." lere it prob- 
ably has its regular meaning. 



V ALLEGRO. 13 

To live with her, and Uve with thee, 

In unreproved pleasures free ; 40 

To hear^ the lark 2 begin his flight, / 

And, singing, startle the dull night, 

From his watchtower in the skies, 

Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 

Then to come, in spite of sorrow, 

And at my window bid good-morrow, 

Through the sweetbrier or the vine, 

Or the twisted eglantine ; 

While the cock, with lively din. 

Scatters the rear of darkness thin ; 50 

And to the stack, or the bam door, 

Stoutly struts his dames before : 

Oft listening how the hounds and horn 

Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 

From the side of some hoar hill, 

Through the high wood echoing shrill : 

Sometime walking, not unseen. 

By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green. 

Right against the eastern gate 

Where the great Sun begins his state, 60 

Robed in flames and amber light, 

The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 

While the plowman, near at hand, y^ 

Whistles o'er the furrowed land. 

And the milkmaid singeth bhthe. 

And the mower whets his scythe, 

And every shepherd tells his tale ^ 

1 This infinitive, as well as " to come," below, depends upon " admit," in 
line 38. 

2 The English skylark begins his flight before sunrise, singing as he soars 
upward, and sometimes passing into the light of the early sunbeams before 
they have reached the fields and valleys below. 

3 The words '^tell" and ''tale" are both from the Anglo-Saxon word 



14 MILTON. I 

Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, 
Whilst the landskip i round it measures : 70 i 

2 Russet lawns, and fallows gray, | 

Where the nibbhng flocks do stray ; 
Mountains on whose barren breast 

The laboring clouds do often rest ; 1 

Meadows trim, with daisies pied ; ' 

Shallow brooks, and rivers wide ; 
Towers and battlements it sees 
Bosomed high in tufted trees, 
Where perhaps some beauty lies. 

The cynosure ^ of neighboring eyes. 80 

Hard by a cottage chimney smokes 

From betwixt two aged oaks, \ 

I Where Corydon ^ and Thyrsis ^ met 
Are at their savory dinner set 

Of herbs and other country messes, ! 

W^hich the neat-handed Phyllis dresses ; 
And then in haste her bower she leaves, 
With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; |, 

Or, if the earlier season lead, \ 

To the tanned haycock in the mead. 90 

Sometimes, with secure dehght, [ 

The upland hamlets will invite, [ 

When the merry bells ring round, 

i( 
tellan, one meaning of which is "to count." The expression " tells his tale '* 
is equivalent to *' counts his number (of sheep)." 

1 " Landskip," now spelled " landscape," meant originally " landshape/* '^ 
that is, the shape or general aspect of the country. 1, 

2 An object of great or general interest. The word comes from Cynosura \ 
(" the dog's tail "), the constellation of the Lesser Bear, by which the Phce-- I 
nician mariners guided their course at sea. 

3 Corydon and Thyrsis are favorite names given to shepherds by writers ^^ 
of pastoral poetry. So, also, Phyllis and Thestylis are names often applied to ^ 
rustic maidens or shepherdesses. 



L'ALLEGRO. IS 

And the jocund rebecks sound 

To many a youth and many a maid 

Dancing in the checkered shade, 

And young and old come forth to play 

On a sunshine hoHday, 

Till the Hvelong daylight fail : 

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, loo 

With stories told of many a feat, 

How Fairy Mab ^ the junkets eat. ^ 

She was pinched and pulled, she said ; 

And he,2 by Friar's lantern ^ led, 

Tells how the drudging goblin sweat 

To earn his cream bowl duly set. 

When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, 

His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn 

That ten day-laborers could not end ; 

Then lies him down, the lubber fiend,^ no 

1 Fairy Mab, or Queen ]\Iab, is the fairy that sends dreams. Read 
Shakespeare's description of her in Romeo and Juhet, Act i., sc. 4. 

2 The pronouns ** she" (line 103) and ** he " (line 104) refer to members 
of the company of youths and maidens mentioned above. The telling of folk- 
lore legends and fairy tales was a favorite amusement with the country people 
in Milton's time, and the belief in fairies was very general. These mysterious 
little beings were supposed to be ever ready to play some trick or work some 
harm, and every misfortune or deed of mischief that could not be otherwise 
accounted for, was popularly ascribed to them. 

5 The ''Friar's lantern" was probably the will-o'-the-wisp, or, as it is 
sometimes called. Jack-o'-lantern, — a delusive light which was supposed to 
be produced by souls broken out from purgatory, or by spirits trying to dis- 
cover hidden treasures. The '' drudging goblin " was Robin Goodfellow, a 
domestic goblin, who did his tasks secretly by night. " Your gran dames, 
maids, were wont to set a bowl of milk for him for his pains in grinding of 
malt or mustard and sweeping the house at midnight. His white bread and 
milk was his standing fee." (Reginald Scott's Discoverie of Witchcraft.') 

^ " In the rustic imagination, Robin Goodfellow was represented as a huge, 
loutish fellow of great strength, but very lazy." The word " fiend," as used 
here, means " spirit" or *' goblin," without any necessary reference to his 
malignant character. 



1 6 MILTON. 

And, stretched out all the chimney's length, 

Basks at the fire his hairy strength, 

And cropful out of doors he flings. 

Ere the first cock his matin rings. 

Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 

By whispering winds soon lulled asleep. 

Towered cities please us then. 

And the busy hum of men,i 

Where throngs of knights and barons bold. 

In weeds 2 of peace, high triumphs hold, 120 

With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 

Rain influence, and judge the prize 

Of wit or arms, while both contend 

To win her grace whom all commend. 

There let Hymen ^ oft appear 

In saffron robe, with taper clear, 

And pomp, and feast, and revelry. 

With mask and antique pageantry ; 

Such sights as youthful poets dream 

On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 

Then to the well-trod stage anon. 

If Jonson's learned sock ^ be on. 

Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, 

^ "Towered cities," etc., i.e., taking our leave now of the sleeping rustics, 
we go to enjoy the scenes and pleasures of city life, the tournament, the 
theater, and the wedding festival. • t 

2 From Anglo-Saxon, waed (''clothing"). 

^ The god of marriage. He is represented in poetry as dressed in a 
saffron-colored robe; and in works of art, as bearing a torch. 

* The sock was the low shoe worn by actors of comedy in ancient Greece 
and Rome; hence the word is used as a symbol of the comic drama. Ben 
Jonson (English dramatist, 15 74-1 63 7) wrote several famous comedies, and F 
the allusion to "Jonson's learned sock" was doubtless intended as a com- n 
pliment to his learning. Note how happily Milton contrasts Shakespeare, 
nature's own poet, and master of the romantic drama, with Jonson, the schol- 
arly master of the classical drama. 



L'ALLEGRO, 17 

Warble his native wood-notes w-ild. 

And ever, against eating cares, 

Lap me in soft Lydian ^ airs. 

Married - to immortal verse, 

Such as the meeting ^ soul may pierce, 

In notes with many a winding bout 

Of linked sweetness long dra^^'n out 140 

With wanton heed and giddy cunning, 

The melting voice through mazes running. 

Untwisting all the chains that tie 

The hidden soul of harmony ; 

That Orpheus' ^ self may heave his head 

From golden slumber on a bed 

Of heaped Elysian ^ flowers, and hear 

Such strains as would have won the ear 

Of Pluto to have quite set free 

His half-regained Eurydice. 150 

These delights if thou canst give, 

Mirth, wath thee I mean to live. 

1 The soft, voluptuous music of the Lydians as opposed to the harsher 
Phrygian or Dorian music. '' Lap" is a corruption of the word *' \^Tap," 
meaning to infold. 

2 Joined inseparably. 

3 Appreciative. 

* Orpheus was the most famous of all musicians. His wife Eurydice hav- 
ing died, he descended into Hades to bring her back to life. Charmed by 
the sweetness of his music, Pluto consented that Eurydice should return with 
him to the upper world, on condition that he should not look back until they 
were safely outside the bounds of Hades. WTien almost out, however, Or- 
pheus, forgetting himself, turned around to see if she were coming, and she 
vanished from his sight. 

5 The Elysian Fields, or Isles of the Blest, were the regions where those 
who were beloved of the gods dwelt in happiness, wandering among flowers 
and enjoying all the beauties which delight the senses or the imagination. 
2 



iS Mil /row 



IL PENSEROSO. 

Hence, vain deluding Joys, 

The brood of Folly without father bred! 
How little you bested,^ 

Or fill the fixed ^ mind with all your toys ! 
Dwell in some idle brain, 

And fancies fond ^ with gaudy shapes possess,^ 
As thick and numberless 

As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, 
Or likest hovering dreams. 

The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' ^ train. lo 

But, hail ! thou Goddess ^ sage and holy 1 
Hail, divinest Melancholy! '^ 
Whose saintly visage is too bright 
To hit the sense of human sight, 
And therefore to our weaker view 
O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; 
Black, but such as in esteem 
Prince Memnon's ^ sister might beseem, 
Or that starred Ethiope queen ^ that strove 



1 Help ; avail. Used now rarely, and only as a participle. 

2 Steady ; sober. 

3 The word " fond " has here its original meaning, " foolish." 

4 Fill, or occupy. 

5 Morpheus (" the shaper ") was the son of Sleep and the god of Dreams. 

6 Compare the characterization of Melancholy which follows with that given 
in the first ten lines of L'Allegro. 

7 Melancholy, with its old significance of seriousness. 

8 Memnon, the son of Tithonus and Aurora, was a king ot Etniopia, slain \ 
by Achilles in the siege of Troy. Although black, he was famed for his 
beauty. His sister was Hemera. 

^ Cassiopeia, Queen of Ethiopia, boasted that the beauty of her daughter \ 
Andromeda exceeded that of the Nereids, or sea nymphs. Both mother and 



IL PENSEROSO, 19 

To set her beauty*s praise above 20 

The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended. 

Yet thou art higher far descended : 

Thee bright-haired Vesta long of yore 

To soHtary Saturn bore;^ 

His daughter she ; in Saturn's reign 

Such mixture was not held a stain. 

Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 

He met her, and in secret shades 

Of woody Ida's ^ inmost grove. 

Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. 30 

Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure. 

Sober, steadfast, and demure, 

All in a robe of darkest grain,^ 

Flowing with majestic train. 

And sable stole of cypress lawn * 

Over thy decent ^ shoulders drawn. 

Come ; but keep thy wonted state, 

With even step, and musing gait, 

daughter were '* starred," i.e,, transferred to the skies as constellations of 
stars. Cassiopeia is represented in old astronomical prints as a black female 
figure marked with white stars. 

1 This conception of the parentage of Melancholy is as fanciful as that 
in L'AUegro of the parentage of Mirth, and is equally original with Milton. 
Vesta was the goddess of the domestic hearth, and therefore symbolizes quiet 
contemplation ; while Saturn, the son of Heaven (Uranus) and Earth (Terra), 
represents retirement. By *' Saturn's reign " is meant the golden age of the 
innocence of the human race, while there was *' yet no fear of Jove." 

2 There were several mountains called Ida. The one here alluded to is on 
the island of Crete, and was a favorite trysting place of the gods. 

^ Tyrian purple. The word *' grain " was applied to the dried body of an 
insect (the size of a seed or grain) from which the Tyrian dye was obtained ; 
afterwards it was applied to the dye itself and to the color produced by it. 

* *' Stole of cypress lawn," i.e., robe of crape of the finest kind. The 
word "cypress," used alone, denotes crape, while lawn denotes the finest 
quality of cloth. 

5 Comely; graceful. 



20 MILTON, 

And looks commercing with the skies, 

Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : 40 

There, held in holy passion still. 

Forget thyself to marble,^ till 

With a sad leaden downward cast 

Thou fix them on the earth as fast. 

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, 

Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, 

And hears the Muses ^ in a ring 

Aye ^ round about Jove's altar sing ; 

And add to these retired Leisure, 

That in trim gardens takes his pleasure ; . 50 

But, first and chiefest, with thee bring 

Him that yon soars on golden wing, 

Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,^ 

The Cherub Contemplation ; 

And the mute Silence hist ^ along, 

'Less Philomel ^ will deign a song, 

In her sweetest saddest plight, 

Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, 

While Cynthia ^ checks her dragon yoke 

1 *' Forget thyself," etc., i.e., become as insensible to your surroundings 
as a statue. 

2 The nine Muses were the daughters of Jupiter and Mnemosyne. They 
were : Calliope, Muse of epic poetry ; Clio, Muse of history ; Erato, Muse of 
love ditties; Euterpe, Muse of lyric poetry; Melpomene, Muse of tragedy ; 
Polyhymnia, Muse of sacred poetry; Terpsichore, Muse of choral song and 
dance ; Thalia, Muse of comedy ; and Urania, Muse of astronomy. 

3 Always ; forever. 

4 See Ezekiel x. i, 2, and 6. Ezekiel describes a vision of a sapphire 
throne, the wheels of which were four cherubs, each wheel or cherub being 
full of eyes all over, while in the midst of them and underneath the throne , 
was a burning fire. Milton brings into his company one of these cherubs, . (1 
whom he names Contemplation. | 

^ Hush, or whisper. 

6 *' 'Less Philomel," i.e., unless the nightingale. 

7 A name for the goddess of the moon. Cynthia's chariot was drawn by % 



IL PENSEROSO, 21 

Gently o'er the accustomed oak.i 60 

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 

Most musical, most melancholy! 

Thee, chauntress,^ oft the woods among 

I woo, to hear thy evensong ; 

And, missing thee, I walk unseen 

On the dry smooth-shaven green. 

To behold the wandering moon. 

Riding near her highest noon, 

Like one that had been led astray 

Through the heaven's wide pathless way, 70 

And oft, as if her head she bowed. 

Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 

Oft, on a plat of rising ground, 

I hear the far-off curfew ^ sound, 

Over some wide-watered shore, 

Swinging slow with sullen roar ; 

Or, if the air will not permit. 

Some still removed place will fit, 

Where glowing embers through the room 

Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, 80 

Far from all resort of mirth, 

Save the cricket on the hearth. 

Or the bellman's ^ drowsy charm 

horses and not by dragons, as here represented. It was Ceres, the goddess 
of plenty, who had a '' dragon yoke." Shakespeare several times alludes to 
the dragon team of night. 

1 ** Accustomed oak," i.e., the oak where the nightingale was accustomed 
to sing and the poet was wont to listen to her. 

2 Songstress. 

3 From French, coiivre-feu (" cover fire"); the bell which was rung in 
the evening as a signal that all fires were to be covered and all lights extin- 
guished. The custom, which was instituted as a law by William the Con- 
queror, was still quite generally observed in Milton's time. 

* The watchman who patrolled the streets and called out the hour of night. 
Sometimes he repeated scraps of pious poetry in order to charm away danger. 



22 MILTON, 

To bless the doors from nightly harm. 

Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, 

Be seen in some high lonely tower. 

Where I may oft outwatch the Bear,i 

With thrice-great Hermes,^ or unsphere 

The spirit of Plato, to unfold 

What worlds or what vast regions hold go 

The immortal mind that hath forsook 

Her mansion in this fleshly nook ;^ 

And of those demons that are found 

In fire, air, flood, or underground, 

Whose power hath a true consent * 

With planet or with element. 

Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 

In sceptered pall ^ come sweeping by, 

Presenting Thebes,^ or Pelops' line, 

Or the tale of Troy divine, lOo 

Or what (though rare) of later age 

Ennobled hath the buskined "^ stage. 

But, O sad Virgin ! that thy power 



1 The constellation of the Great Bear, which in these latitudes never sets. 
To ** outwatch the Bear " would be to remain awake until daybreak. 

2 Hermes Trismegistus, an ancient Egyptian philosopher, the supposed ' 
author of certain once-famous works on philosophy. i 

3 " Unsphere the spirit of Plato," etc., i.e., study Plato's philosophy of i 
the immortality of the soul, and of the relation of the spirits ('' demons ") to 
the four elements, earth, air, fire, and water, over which they presided. The , 
literal meaning of the phrase is *' bring back the disembodied spirit of Plato ! 
from the sphere which he now inhabits." ' 

4 Sympathy. 

^ " Sceptered pall," i.e., royal robes. , 

6 The three most popular subjects of Greek tragedy were those relating to | 

the city of Thebes, to the descendants of Pelops (an early king of Greece)^ ! 

and to the memorable war with Troy. 

'^ The buskin was the high-heeled boot worn by the actors of tragedy in 

the theaters of ancient Greece. It is therefore sometimes used as a symbol of 

the tragic drama. See note on '* sock," L'Allegro, line 132. 



IL PENSEROSO, 23 

Might raise Musaeus ^ from his bower ; 

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 

Such notes as, warbled to the string, 

Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek. 

And made Hell grant what love did seek ;'^ 

Or call up him that left half told 

The story of Cambuscan bold, no 

Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 

And who had Canace to wife, 

That owned the virtuous ring and glass ; 

And of the wondrous horse of brass 

On which the Tartar king did ride ;^ 

And if aught else great bards ^ beside 

In sage and solemn tunes have sung, 

Of turneys, and of trophies hung, 

Of forests, and enchantments drear, 

Where more is meant than meets the ear. 120 

Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 

Till civil-suited ^ Morn appear, 

Not tricked and frounced, as she was wont 

With the Attic boy ^ to hunt, 

But kerchieft "^ in a comely cloud, 

1 An ancient Greek minstrel, or poet. 

2 See note on L'Allegro, line 145. 

3 '* Or call up him," etc. An allusion to the poet Chaucer (1340-1400) 
and the poem The Squiers Tale, which he left unfinished. In this tale 
Cambuscan is a king of Tartary ; Camball and Algarsife are his sons ; and 
Canace is his daughter. The horse of brass is a present from a neighboring 
king, as are also Canace's ring and glass. The word '' virtuous " here 
means *' ha\ang magic power." 

^ '' And if aught else," etc. A reference probably to the poets Ariosto, 
Tasso, and Spenser, and the romantic character and underlying moral purpose 
of their works. 

5 Contrast this description of Morning with that in L'Allegro. 

^ Cephalus, an Athenian youth, beloved by Aurora. 

'^ Having the head covered, as with a kerchief. 



24 MILTON, 

While rocking winds are piping loud, 

Or ushered with a shower still, 

When the gust hath blown his ^ fill, 

Ending on the rustling leaves, 

With minute drops ^ from off the eaves. -£30 

And, when the sun begins to fling 

His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring 

To arched walks of twilight groves, 

And shadows brown, that Sylvan^ loves. 

Of pine, or monumental oak. 

Where the rude ax with heaved stroke 

Was never heard the nymphs to daunt. 

Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. 

There, in close covert, by some brook, 

Where no profaner eye may look, 140 

Hide me from day*s garish eye, * 

While the bee with honeyed thigh. 

That, at her flowery work doth sing, 

And the waters murmuring. 

With such consort ^ as they keep, 

Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep. 

And let some strange mysterious dream 

Wave at his wings, in airy stream 

Of lively portraiture displayed. 

Softly on my eyelids laid; 150 

And, as I wake, sweet music breathe 

Above, about, or underneath, 

Sent by some Spirit to mortals good. 

Or the unseen Genius of the wood. 

1 Its. 

2 *' Minute drops," i.e., drops falling slowly and at regular intervals as 
the shower comes to an end. Compare with " minute gun." 

3 Sylvanus, the god of the woods. 

4 " Day's garish eye," i.e., the dazzling sun. 

5 Concert ; harmony. 



IL PENSEROSO. 25 

But let my due feet ^ never fail 

To walk the studious cloister's pale,^ 

And love the high embowed ^ roof, 

With antique pillars massy proof,^ 

And storied windows ^ richly dight, 

Casting a dim religious light. 160 

There let the pealing organ blow, 

To the full-voiced quire ^ below, 

In service high and anthems clear, 

As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 

Dissolve me into ecstasies, 

And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 

And may at last my w^eary age 

Find out the peaceful hermitage, 

The hairy gowm and mossy cell, 

Where I may sit and rightly spell 170 

Of every star that heaven doth shew, 

And every herb that sips the dew^"^ 

Till old experience do attain 

To something like prophetic strain.^ 

These pleasures, Melancholy, give ; 

And I with thee will choose to live. 

1 "Due feet," i.e., feet that are due at a certain place at a certain time. 

2 ** To walk," etc., i.e., to resort to the precincts or inclosure of some 
building devoted to study or religious meditation. The word '' pale " means 
here '* inclosure " or " boundary." 

^ Arched. 

^ Massive enough to be proof against the great weight which they are 
intended to support. 

. ° '' Storied windows," i.e., windows of stained glass with Scripture stories 
represented on them. 

6 Old spelling of choir. 

"^ " Rightly spell," etc., i.e., study aright the phenomena of nature. 

^ Utterance. 



COMUS: A MASOUE, 



THE PERSONS. 



The Attendant Spirit, after- i First Brother. 

ivards in the habit of Thyrsis. | Second Brother. 
CoMUS, luith his Crew, 
The Lady. 



Sabrina, the Nymph. 



TJie first Scene discovers a Wild Wood, 
The Attendant Spirit descends or enters. 

Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 

Of bright aerial spirits live insphered ^ 

In regions mild of calm and serene air, 

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot 

Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care, 

Coniined and pestered - in this pinfold ^ here, 

Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 

Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives, 

After this mortal change, to her true servants lo 

Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. 

Yet some there be that by due steps aspire 

1 In the sphere assigned to them. Compare with II Penseroso, line 88. 

2 Encumbered. '' Pester " originally meant ** a clog for horses in a pas- 
ture," hence, in its verbal signification, ** to impede." 

3 A pound, pen, fold, or inclosure for confining stray cattle. 

26 



f COM US: A MASQUE, 27 

To lay their just hands on that golden key 1 
That opes the palace of eternity. 
To such my errand is ; and, but for such, 
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 2 
With the rank vapors of this sin-worn mold.^ 

But to my task. Neptune ^ besides the sway 
Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream, 
Took in by lot, 'twixt high and nether Jove,^ 20 

Imperial rule of all the seagirt isles 
That, hke to rich and various gems, inlay 
The unadorned bosom of the deep ; 
Which he, to grace his tributary gods. 
By course commits to several ^ government, 
And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
And wield their httle tridents. But this Isle,^ 
The greatest and the best of all the main, 
He quarters to his blue-haired deities ;^ 

1 " Yet some," etc. St. Peter is represented as carrying the golden key 
with which to unlock the gates of heaven (see Lycidas, line no). Milton 
here means that there are some who by their virtuous lives strive to merit 
admittance into heaven. 

2 ** Ambrosial weeds," i.e., immortal garments. Ambrosia, was the food 
of the gods. For '* weeds," see note on L' Allegro, line 120. 

3 World. 

4 The god of the sea and of all waters. His scepter was a three-pronged 
fork, or trident. 

5 ** Took in by lot," etc. The sons of Saturn, after the dethronement of 
their father, divided the government of the world by lot among themselves. 
Jupiter (high Jove) obtained the heavens and the mainland ; Neptune, the sea 
and its islands ; and Pluto (nether Jove), the infernal regions. 

^ Separate. 

■^ Great Britain. 

8 '* Quarters to," etc., i.e., assigns to the deities of the sea. Neptune and 
/his subordinates are referred to in classical poetry as '' green -haired." Pos- 
sibly Milton adopted ** blue-haired " as more fitly symbolizing the sea waves ; 
perhaps, also, he had in mind the blue-stained Britons who fought with 
Caesar. 



28 MILTON. 

And all this tract ^ that fronts the falling sun 30 

A noble Peer 2 of mickle ^ trust and power 

Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide 

An old and haughty nation,^ proud in arms : 

Where his fair offspring,^ niu"sed in princely lore, 

Are coming to attend their father's state. 

And new-intrusted scepter. But their way 

Lies through the perplexed paths of this drear wood,^ 

The nodding horror of whose shady brows 

Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger ; 

And here their tender age might suffer peril, 40 

But that, by quick command from sovran Joye, 

I was dispatched for their defense and guard : 

And listen why ; for I will tell you now 

What never yet was heard in tale or song, 

From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 

Bacchus,'^ that first from out the purple grape 
Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine, 
After the Tuscan mariners transformed. 
Coasting the Tyrrhene ^ shore, as the winds listed. 
On Circe's island ^ fell. (Who knows not Circe, 50 

The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup 

1 Wales. 2 Xhe Earl of Bridgewater (see Introduction, p. 7). 

3 Great ; much. ^ The Welsh. 

5 The three children of the Earl of Bridgewater, who were now coming to 
Ludlow Castle on the occasion of their father's induction into office. 

6 This is probably an allusion to the densely wooded region of Shropshire 
in the neighborhood of Ludlow Castle. 

7 The god of wine and revelry. 

8 Italian. The story is that on one occasion Tuscan pirates attempted to 
carry Bacchus to Italy to sell him as a slave. Suddenly the chains dropped 
from his limbs and he assumed the form of a lion. The ship stood still while 
vines grew up and entwined themselves round the mast and sails ; and the 
pirates, in terror, leaped into the sea, where they were transformed into 
dolphins. 

® ^aea, near the shore of Tuscany. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 29 

Whoever tasted lost his upright shape, 

And downward fell into a groveling swine?) 

This Nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks, 

With ivy berries wreathed, and his bUthe youth, 

Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 

Much Hke his father, but his mother more, 

Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus^ named: 

Who, ripe and froUc of his full-grown age, 

Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields,^ 60 

At last betakes him to this ominous wood. 

And, in thick shelter of black shades embowered, 

Excels his mother at her mighty art ; 

Offering to every weary traveler 

His orient Uquor in a crystal glass. 

To quench the drouth of Phoebus \^ which as they taste 

(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst). 

Soon as the potion works, their human countenance. 

The express resemblance of the gods, is changed 

Into some brutish form of wolf or bear, 70 

Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat, 

All other parts remaining as they were. 

And they, so perfect is their misery. 

Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. 

But boast themselves more comely than before. 

And all their friends and native home forget, 

To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 

Therefore, when any favored of high Jove 

Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, 

Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 80 

I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy, 

1 This genealogy of Comus is purely the invention of Milton's fancy, and 
has no warrant in ancient mythology. 

2 '' Celtic," etc., i.e., France and Spain. 

3 '' Drouth," etc., i.e., the thirst caused by the sun's heat. Phoebus was 
the sun god, or personification of the sun. 



30 MILTON, 

As now I do. But first I must put off 

These my sky robes, spun out of Iris* ^ woof, 

And take the weeds and hkeness of a swain 

That to the service of this house belongs ; 

Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song, 

Well knows ^ to still the wild winds when they roar. 

And hush the waving woods ; nor of less faith, 

And in this office of his mountain watch 

LikeHest, and nearest to the present aid qo 

Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 

Of hateful steps ; I must be viewless now. 



CoMUS enters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with j 

him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but other- \ 

wise like men and women, their apparel' glistering.^ They come in making i 
a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands, 

Co7nus. The star ^ that bids the shepherd fold ^ . j 

Now the top of heaven doth hold ; ' 

And the gilded car of day 
His glowing axle doth allay 

In the steep Atlantic stream;^ | 

And the slope sun his upward beam | 

Shoots against the dusky pole, 1 

Pacing towards the other goal loo | 

Of his chamber in the eastJ - ' 

Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast, 

I 

1 The personification of the rainbow. It may be inferred that the Attendant 
Spirit's sky robes were of the colors of the rainbow. 

2 Supply ''how." 3 Glittering. 

4 The evening star, Hesperus or Venus. 

5 Drive his sheep into the fold. 

6 " In the steep," etc., i.e., in the sloping Atlantic flood, where it curves 
below the western horizon. 

7 " Pacing towards," etc., i.e., returning towards his rising place in the 
east. 



COMUS: A MASQUE. 31 

Midnight shout and revehy, 

Tipsy dance and jollity. 

Braid your locks with rosy twine,i 

Dropping odors, dropping wine. 

Rigor now is gone to bed ; 

And Advice with scrupulous head, 

Strict Age, and sour Severity, 

With their grave saws,- in slumber lie. no 

We, that are of purer fire. 

Imitate the starry quire,^ 

AVho, in their nightly watchful spheres, 

Lead in swift round the months and years. 

The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove. 

Now to the moon in wavering morrice^ move ; 

And on the tawny sands and shelves 

Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 

By dimpled brook and fountain brim, 

The wood nymphs, decked with daisies trim, 120 

Their merry wakes ^ and pastimes keep : 

What hath night to do with sleep ? 

Night hath better sweets to prove ; 

Venus ^ now wakes, and wakens Love. 

Come, let us our rites begin ; 

Tis only daylight that makes sin, 

Which these dun shades will ne'er report. — 

Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport, 

1 Roses twined together. - Wise sayings ; sober rules. 

3 Choir. Used here, perhaps, with its original signification, a band of 
choral dancers. The poet has also in mind the ancient notion of the music 
made by the revolution of the spheres. 

^ The morris, or Moorish dance, was introduced into England in the reign 
of Edward III. It was a prominent feature of the May Day and other out- 
door festivities. 

5 Nocturnal amusements. Originally a " wake '' was the watch or sitting 
up till late before one of the church holidays. 

6 Goddess of love and beauty. 



32 MILTON, 

Dark-veiled Cotytto,^ to whom the secret flame 

Of midnight torches burns! mysterious dame, 130 

That ne'er art called but when the dragon womb 

Of Stygian darkness ^ spets ^ her thickest gloom, 

And makes one blot of all the air! 

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 

Wherein thou ridest with Hecat',^ and befriend 

Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end 

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out ; 

Ere the blabbing eastern scout. 

The nice Morn on the Indian steep. 

From her cabined loophole peep,^ 140 

And to the telltale Sun descry 

Our concealed solemnity. 

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 

In a Hght fantastic round.^ [ The Measure. 

Break off, break off!'^ I feel the different pace 
Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
Run to your shrouds ^ within these brakes and trees ; 
Our number may affright. Some virgin, sure 
(For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
Benighted in these woods ! Now to my charms, 150 
And to my wily trains :^ I shall ere long 
Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed 
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
My dazzhng spells into the spongy ^^ air, 

1 A Thracian goddess whose licentious festivals were celebrated at night. 

2 '' Stygian darkness," i.e., the darkness of the infernal regions. See note 
on L'Allegro, line 3. 

3 Spits ; ejects. 

4 Hecate, the goddess of sorcery, supposed to preside over all nocturnal 
horrors. 

5 "Nice Morn," etc., i.e., the fastidious dawn peeps from among the 
clouds on the eastern (Indian) horizon. 

6 Dance; measure. '^ '^ Break off," i.e., cease dancing. 

8 Hiding places. ^ Allurements. 10 Absorbent. 



COMUS: A MASQUE. ZZ 

Of power to cheat the e)^e with blear ^ illusion, 

And give it false presentments, lest the place 

And my quaint habits breed astonishment, 

And put the damsel to suspicious flight ; 

Which must not be, for that's against my course. 

I, under fair pretense of friendly ends, i6o 

And well-placed words of giozing ^ courtesy, 

Baited with reasons not unplausible, 

Wind me into the easy-hearted man. 

And hug him into snares. When once her eye 

Hath n\et the virtue ^ of this magic dust, 

I shall appear some harmless villager. 

Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.^ — 

But here she comes ; I fairly step aside. 

And hearken, if I may, her business here. 

The Lady enters. 

Lady, This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170 
My best guide now. Methought it was the sound 
Of riot and ill-managed merriment. 
Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe 
Stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds,^ 
When, for their teeming flocks and granges full. 
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,^ 
And thank the gods amiss.^ I should be loath 
To meet the rudeness and swilled insolence 
Of such late wassailers ; yet, oh ! where else 
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet ' 180 

In the blind mazes of this tangled wood? 
My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 

1 Blurred ; deceitful. 2 Flattering. 3 Peculiar power. 

^ Business ; duties. 5 Peasants. 

^ God of shepherds and pastoral life. 
' By acts altogether displeasing to them. 



34 MILTON, 

With this long way, resolving here to lodge 

Under the spreading favor of these pines, 

Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket side 

To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 

As the kind hospitable woods provide. 

They left me then when the gray-hooded Even, 

Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed,^ 

Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain.^ 190 

But where they are, and why they came not back, 

Is now the labor of my thoughts. Tis likeHest 

They had engaged their wandering steps too far;^ 

And envious darkness, ere they could return, 

Had stole them from me. Else, O thievish Night, 

Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end. 

In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars 

That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps 

With everlasting oil, to give due light 

To the misled and lonely traveler? 200 

This is the place, as well as I may guess, 

Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 

Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear ; 

Yet naught but single ^ darkness do I find. 

What might this be ? A thousand fantasies 

Begin to throng into my memory, 

Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, 

And airy tongues that syllable men's names 

On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. 

These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 

The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 

By a strong siding^ champion. Conscience. — 

1 " Votarist in palmer's weed," i.e., a pilgrim clad in the garb of one re- 
turning from the Holy Sepulcher. 

2 *' Phoebus' wain," i.e., the sun car. See note on Hne 66. 

3 '* Engaged," etc., i.e., had undertaken to go too far. 

4 Only. 5 Supporting. 



COM US: A MASQUE, 35 

O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 

Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings, 

And thou unblemished form of Chastity ! 

I see ye visibly, and noiv believe 

That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 

Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, 

Would send a glistering guardian, if need were. 

To keep my life and honor unassailed. — 220 

Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 

Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? 

I did not err : there does a sable cloud 

Turn forth her silver lining on the night, 

And casts a gleam over this tufted grove. 

I cannot hallo to my brothers, but 

Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 

I'll ventiu-e ; for my new-enlivened ^ spirits 

Prompt me, and they perhaps are not far off. 



SONG. 

Sweet Echo^'^ sweetest nymph ^ that liv^st unseen 230 

Within thy airy shell 
By slow Meander's ^ margent green. 
And in the violet-embroidered vale 
Where the loi.felorn nightingale 
Nightly to thee her sad song niourneth well: 
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
That likest thy Narcissus are? 

O, if thou have 
Hid them in some flowery cave, 

Tell me but where, 240 

1 Encouraged. 

2 The nymph Echo loved Narcissus ; as her love was not returned, she 
pined away until nothing remained but her beautiful voice. 

^ A winding river in Asia Minor, 



36 MILTON, I 

Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere 1 1 
So may^st thou be translated to the skies, 
And give resoundifig grace to all heaven's harmonies ! 

t 

Coiniis, Can any mortal mixture of earth's mold • 

Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? ' 

Sure something holy lodges in that breast, | 

And with these raptures moves the vocal air i 

To testify his ^ hidden residence. 
How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, 250 

At every fall smoothing the raven down ^ 
Of darkness till it smiled! I have oft heard 
My mother Circe, with the Sirens ^ three. 
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades,^ 
Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, 
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul, 
And lap it in Elysium : ^ Scylla wept, j 

And chid her barking waves into attention. 
And fell Charybdis "^ murmured soft applause. 
Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense, 260 1 

And in sweet madness robbed it of itself ; I 



1 '^ Queen," etc., i.e., Queen of Speech, Daughter of the Air. 

2 Its. The antecedent of the word is ** something holy," line 246. The ' 
neuter possessive pronoun its is of comparatively recent origin. Spenser did 
not use it at all, nor is it found anywhere in the authorized version of the 
English Bible. It occurs but ten times in Shakespeare's works ; and Milton | 
,seems to prefer the old form, his, . 

3 '' The raven down," i.e., the black, feathery softness. 

4 Sea nymphs, who by their songs lured people to death. In ancient 
mythology they had no connection with Circe. 

5 Nymphs of the fountains and streams. 

6 '' Lap it," etc., i.e., enwrap it in heavenly bliss. See note on *' Elysi- 
an," L'Allegro, line 147. 

'^ Scylla and Charybdis were rocks upon opposite sides of the Sicilian 
Straits. The myth states that Circe transformed the nymph Scylla, who 
lived under the rock of that name, into a barking dog. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 37 

But such a sacred and home-felt dehght, 

Such sober certainty of waking bHss, 

I never heard till now. I'll speak to her, 

And she shall be my queen. — Hail, foreign wonder! 

Whom certain these rough shades did never breed, 

Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 

Dwell'st here with Pan or Sylvan,^ by blest song 

Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 

To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 270 

Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
That is addressed to unattending ears. 
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 2 
How to regain my severed company. 
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo 
To give me answer from her mossy couch. 

Comus. AVhat chance, good Lady, hath bereft you 
thus ? 

Lady, Dim darkness and this leafy labyrinth. 

Comus. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
guides ? 

Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 280 

Coimcs. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why? 

Lady. To seek i' the valley some cool friendly spring. 

Coimis. And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady? 

Lady. They were but twain, and purposed quick re- 
tiu-n. 

Co7?ms. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 

Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit!^ 

Co7nus. Imports their loss, beside the present need? 

Lady. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 

Co7?iiis. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom ? 

Lady. As smooth as Hebe's"^ their unrazored lips. 290 

1 See note on II Penseroso, line 134. 

2 '' Extreme shift," i.e., the last expedient. 

3 Guess. 4 See note on L'Allegro, line 29. 



3^ MTLTON, 

Coinus, Two such I saw, what time the labored ox 
In his loose traces from the furrow came, 
And the swinked hedger i at his supper sat. 
I saw them under a green mantling vine, 
That crawls along the side of yon small hill, 
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
Their port ^ was more than human, as they stood. 
I took it for a fairy vision 
Of some gay creatures of the element,^ 
That in the colors of the rainbow live, 300 

And play i' the plighted ^ clouds. I was awe-strook,^ 
And, as I passed, I worshiped. If those you seek, 
It were a journey like the path to heaven 
To help you find them. 

Lady, Gentle villager, 

What readiest way would bring me to that place? 

Comus, Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 

Lady, To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose, 
In such a scant allowance of starlight. 
Would overtask the best land pilot's art, 
Without the sure guess of well-practiced feet. 310 

Comus, I know each lane, and every alley green, 
Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood. 
And every bosky bourn ^ from side to side. 
My daily walks and ancient neighborhood ; 
And, if your stray attendance ^ be yet lodged, 
Or shroud ^ within these hmits, I shall know 
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
From her thatched pallet ^ rouse. If otherwise, 

1 *' Swinked hedger," i.e., tired laborer. 

2 Bearing ; manner. The poet here pays a compliment to the two sons of 
the Earl of Bridgewater, who were about to come on the stage. 

3 Air. 4 Plaited; interwoven. 5 Awe-struck. 
6 Shrubby-banked watercourse. "^ Attendants. 

8 Are hidden. See the use of the same word as a noun, line 147. 
^ The lark makes her nest on the ground. 



COM US: A MASQUE, 39 

I can conduct you, Lady, to a low 

But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320 

Till further quest. 

Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word, 

And trust thy honest-offered courtesy, 
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds. 
With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls 
And courts of princes, where it first was named,i 
And yet is most pretended. In a place 
Less warranted than this, or less secure, 
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. — 
Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
To my proportioned strength! - — Shepherd, lead on. 330 

\Exetint, 

Enter the Two Brothers. 

Elder Brother, Unmuffle, ye faint stars ; and thou, fair 
moon, 
That wont'st to love the traveler's benison. 
Stoop thy pale \asage through an amber cloud, 
And disinherit Chaos that reigns here 
In double night of darkness and of shades ; 
Or, if your influence be quite dammed up 
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 
Though a rush candle from the wicker hole ^ 
Of some clay habitation, visit us 

With thy long leveled rule of streaming light, 340 

And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,-^ 
Or Tyrian Cynosure. 

1 Courtesy meant originally the manners of the court. 

2 " Square my trial," etc., i.e., adapt my trial to the proportions of my 
strength. 

3 Wicker-crossed opening, or window. 

* " Star of Arcady," i.e., any star in the constellation of the Great Bear. 
It was so called from Calisto, daughter of a king of Arcadia, who was changed 



40 MILTON, 

Second Brother, Or, if our eyes 

• Be barred that happiness, might we but hear 

The folded flocks, penned in their wattled cotes,^ 

Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,^ 

Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 

Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 

'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering, 

In this close dungeon of innumerous ^ boughs. 

But, oh, that hapless virgin, our lost sister! 350 

Where may she wander now, whither betake her 

From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles? 

Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now. 

Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 

Leans her unpillowed head, fraught with sad fears. 

What if in wild amazement and affright. 

Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 

Of savage hunger, or of savage heat! 

Elder Brother, Peace, brother : be not over-exquisite * 
To cast the fashion ^ of uncertain evils ; 360 

For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown. 
What need a man forestall his date of grief, 
And run to meet what he would most avoid? I 

Or, if they be but false alarms of fear, , 

How bitter is such self-delusion ! ! 

I do not think my sister so to seek,^ 
Or so unprincipled in virtue's book. 
And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 1 

into that constellation. The Greek sailors steered their vessels by a star of I 
Arcady; the Phoenicians, by the Cynosura. See note on L'AUegro, line 80. 

1 *' Wattled cotes," i.e., cots or sheltering places made of wattled withes, i 
or twigs. I 

2 The stops are the holes in an oaten pipe, or reed, used as a musical in-- 1 
strument. 

3 Innumerable. * Overanxious, or inquisitive. 

5 '* To cast the fashion," i.e., to predict the nature. 

6 '* So to seek," i.e., so ignorant what to do, at a loss. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 4^ 

As that the single want of Kght and noise 

(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 3^0 

Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, 

And put them into misbecoming plight. 

Virtue could see to do what Virtue would 

By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 

Were in the flat sea sunk.^ And Wisdom's self 

Oft seeks ^ to sweet retired solitude, 

Where, with her best nurse. Contemplation, 

She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 

That, in the various bustle of resort, 

W^ere all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired. 380 

He that has light within his own clear breast. 

May sit i' the center,^ and enjoy bright day: 

But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts 

Benighted walks under the midday sun ; 

Himself is his own dungeon. 

Second Brother. 'Tis most true 

That musing Meditation most affects 
The pensive secrecy of desert cell. 
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds. 
And sits as safe as in a senate house ; 
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 39° 

His few books, or his beads, or maple dish. 
Or do his gray hairs any violence? 
But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree ^ 
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye 
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit. 
From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 

1 '* Virtue could, "etc. Spenser says :'' Virtue gives herselfe light, through 
darknesse for to wade. "—Faerie Queene, Book I., Canto I., Stanza 12. 

2 Resorts. 3 In the center of the earth, or utter darkness. 

4 The tree which was under the guardianship of the Hesperides, and which 
bore golden apples. It was watched by a dragon. 



42 MILTON. I 

You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps 1 

% Of miser's treasure by an outlaw's den, 

And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400 

Danger will wink on Opportunity, 

And let a single helpless maiden pass 

Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 

Of night or loneliness it recks me not ;i 

I fear the dread events that dog ^ them both, 

Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 

Of our unowned ^ sister. 

Elder Brother, I do not, brother, 

Infer as if I thought my sister's state 
Secure without all doubt or controversy ; 
Yet, where an equal poise of hope and fear 4 1 o 

Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
That I incline to hope rather than fear, 
And gladly' banish squint ^ suspicion. 
My sister is not so defenseless left 
As you imagine ; she has a hidden strength, 
Which you remember not. 

Second Brother. What hidden strength, 

Unless the strength of Heaven, if you mean that? 

Elder Brother. I mean that too, but yet a hidden 
strength, 
Which, if Heaven gave it, may be termed her own. 
'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity: 420 

She that has that is clad in complete steel. 
And, like a quivered nymph ^ with arrows keen, 
May trace huge forests, and unharbored heaths, 
Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds ; 
Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, 

1 " It recks," etc., i.e., I take no account. 

2 Pursue. 3 Unprotected. ^ Looking askance or sideways. 

5 A reference to one of the nymphs or companions of the chaste goddess 
Diana. See note on h'ne 441. 



COMUS: A MASQUE, 43 

No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer, 

Will dare to soil her virgin purity. 

Yea, there where very desolation dwells, 

By grots and caverns shagged with horrid shades, 

She may pass on with unblenched^ majesty, 430 

Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 

Some say no evil thing that walks by night. 

In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, 

Blue meager hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost 

That breaks his magic chains at curfew ^ time. 

No goblin or swart faery ^ of the mine. 

Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. 

Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 

Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 

To testify the arms of chastity? 440 

Hence had the huntress Dian ^ her dread bow, 

Fair silver-shafted queen, forever chaste. 

Wherewith she tamed the brinded ^ lioness 

And spotted mountain pard, but set at naught 

The frivolous bolt of Cupid ;^ gods and men 

Feared her stern frown, and she was queen o' the woods. 

What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield ^ 

1 Fearless. ■ 

2 See note on II Penseroso, line 74. There was a popular superstition that 
certain evil spirits were always abroad from curfew time till the crowing of 
the cock at dawn. 

3 *' Swart faery," i.e., black fairy, or elf, such as, according to ancient 
superstition, dwelt in mines ; of. the gnomes, or dwarfs. 

^ ** Diana (Cynthia)^ was not only goddess of the moon, but also of the 
chase. In works of art she is represented as a beautiful maiden, clad in a short 
hunting dress, and with a crescent on her well-poised head." (Guerber.) 

5 Brindled; streaked. 

^ Cupid, son of Venus and Mars, was god of love. The bolts or darts 
which he shot from his bow had the power of exciting love in the heart of 
any one whom they pierced. 

"^ The three Gorgons were hideous monsters whose faces were so fearful 
that whoever looked on them became *' congealed stone." One of these 



44 MILTON. 

That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin, 

Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone, 

But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 450 

And noble grace that daghed brute violence 

With sudden adoration and blank awe ? 

So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity 

That, when a soul is found sincerely so, 

A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, 

And in clear dream and solemn vision 

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear ; 

Till oft ^ converse with heavenly habitants 

Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 460 

The unpolluted temple of the mind, 

And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence. 

Till all be made immortal. But, when lust. 

By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, 

But most by lewd and lavish act of sin. 

Lets in defilement to the inward parts. 

The soul grows clotted by contagion, 

Imbodies, and imbrutes,^ till she quite lose 

The divine property of her first being. 

Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 470 

Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchers, 

Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave, 

As loath to leave the body that it loved. 

And linked itself by carnal sensualty 

To a degenerate and degraded state.^ 

creatures, Medusa, was slain by Perseus, and her head was presented to 
Minerva, who placed it in her shield, where the face continued to retain its 
petrifying power. 

1 Frequent. 

2 " Imbodies, and imbrutes," i.e., becomes carnal and brutal. 

3 Milton has here adapted a well-known passage from Plato's Phsedo, in 
which Socrates is speaking of souls that have given themselves up to corporeal 



COM US: A MASQUE, 45 

Second Brother, How charming is divine philosophy! 
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical as is Apollo's lute,i 
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, 
Where no crude surfeit ^ reigns. 

Elder Brother, List! list! I hear 480 

Some far-off hallo break the silent air. 

Second Brother. Methought so too ; what should it be ? 

Elder Brother, For certain, 

Either some one, hke us, night foundered here ; 
Or else some neighbor woodman ; or, at worst. 
Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 

Second Brother. Heaven keep my sister! Again, 
again, and near! 
Best draw, and stand upon our guard. 

Elder Brother, I'll hallo. 

If he be friendly, he comes well : if not. 
Defense is a good cause, and Heaven be for us! 

Enter the Attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 

That hallo I should know. What are you? speak. 490 
• Come not too near ; you fall on iron stakes ^ else. 

Spirit, What voice is that? my young lord? speak 

again. 
Second B^^other, O brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, 

sure. 
Elder Brother. Thyrsis! whose artful strains have oft 
delayed 

pleasures. When the body dies, these souls, he says, being unfit to soar to 
heaven, are weighed down to earth, and wander as visible, shadowy phantoms 
amongst the tombs. 

1 Apollo was the god of song and music, and was said to have been the in- 
ventor of the lute. 

2 V* Crude surfeit," i.e., unhealthful excess. 

3 ** Fall on iron stakes," i.e., come in contact with our swords. 



46 MILTON, 

The huddling brook ^ to hear his madrigal, 

And sweetened every musk rose of the dale. — 

How camest thou here, good swain? Hath any ram 

Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 

Or stragghng wether the pent flock forsook? 

How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook? 500 

Spirit, O my loved master's heir, and his next joy, 
I came not here on such a trivial toy 
As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
Of pilfering wolf ; not all the fleecy wealth 
That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought 
To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
But, oh! my virgin Lady, where is she? 
How chance she is not in your company? 

Elder Brother, To tell thee sadly. Shepherd, without 
blame 
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 5 1 o 

Spirit. Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true. 

Elder Brother, What fears, good Thyrsis? Prithee 2 
briefly show. 

Spirit. I'll tell ye. 'Tis not vain or fabulous 
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance) 
What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly Muse, 
Storied of old in high immortal verse 
Of dire Chimeras ^ and enchanted isles. 
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell; 
For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 

1 ** Huddling brook." The waters are huddled together as they delay to 
listen to his music. The poet is here paying a compliment to Henry Lawes, 
who acted the part of the Attendant Spirit and had arranged the music for the 
masque. 

2 I pray thee. 

3 The chimera was a mythical monster having a lion's head, a goat's body, 
and a dragon's tail. Hence, a name applied to any incongruous fancy or 
creature of the imagination. 



COMUS: A MASQUE. 47 

Within the naveU of this hideous wood, 520 

Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells, 
Of Bacchus and of Circe bom, great Comus, 
Deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries, 
And here to every thirsty wanderer 
By sly enticement gives his baneful cup, 
With many murmurs ^ mixed, whose pleasing poison 
The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
Fixes instead, unmolding reason's mintage 
Charactered in the face.^ This have I learnt 530 

Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts ^ 
That brow this bottom glade ; whence night by night 
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl 
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey, 
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
Yet have they many baits and guileful spells 
To inveigle and invite the unwary sense - 
Of them that pass unweeting ^ by the way. 
This evening late, by then^ the chewing flocks 540 

Had ta'en their supper on the savory herb 
Of knotgrass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 
I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
With ivy canopied, and inten;\^ove 
With flaunting honeysuckle, and began. 
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy. 
To meditate '^ my rural minstrelsy. 
Till fancy had her fill. But ere a close 

1 Center. 2 Muttered incantations. 

^ " Unmolding," etc., i.e., destroying the stamp of reason impressed in 
the human face. 

* Small, inclosed fields. » Unwitting; not knowing the dangers. 

^ '' By then," i.e., about the time when. 

" *' To meditate," i.e., to practice; to devote some time to. 



48 MILTON, 

The wonted roar was up ^ amidst the woods, 

And filled the air with barbarous dissonance; 550 

At which I ceased, and listened them awhile, 

Till an imusual stop of sudden silence 

Gave respite to the drowsy frighted 2 steeds 

That draw the litter of close-curtained Sleep. 

At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 

Rose hke a steam of rich distilled perfumes, 

And stole upon the air, that even Silence 

AVas took ere she was ware, and washed she might 

Deny her nature, and be never more. 

Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 560 

And took in strains that might create a soul 

Under the ribs of Death. ^ But, oh! ere long 

Too well I did perceive it was the voice 

Of my most honored Lady, your dear sister. 

Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear ; 

And " O poor hapless nightingale," thought I, 

"How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare!" 

Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 

Through paths and tiunings often trod by day. 

Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place 570 

Where that damned wizard, hid in sly disguise 

(For so by certain signs I knew), had met 

Already, ere my best speed could prevent, 

The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey ; 

Who gently asked if he had seen 'such two, 

Supposing him some neighbor villager. 

1 Had begun. 

2 " Drowsy frighted," etc., i.e., the drowsy steeds of night that have 
been frighted by the barbarous dissonance of Comus and his crew. 

3 " Even Silence," etc., i.e., even Silence was so charmed by this music 
that she would willingly have ceased to exist if she could always be displaced 
by it. I could hear nothing else, for these strains were so ravishing that 
they might even have restored a soul within a lifeless skeleton. 



COMUS: A MASQUE. 49 

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed 
Ye were the two she meant ; with that I sprung 
Into swift flight, till I had found you here ; 
But fiurther know I not. 

Seco7id Brother, O night and shades, 580 

How are ye joined with hell in triple knot 
Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin, 
Alone and helpless! Is this the confidence 
You gave me, brother? 

Elder Brother, Yes, and keep it still ; 

Lean on it safely ; not a period ^ 
Shall be unsaid for me. Against the threats 
Of malice or of sorcery, or that power 
Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm : 
Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt ; 
Surprised by imjust force, but not enthralled; 590 

Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm 
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. 
But evil on itself shall back recoil. 
And mix no more with goodness, when at last. 
Gathered Hke scum, and settled to itself. 
It shall be in eternal restless change 
Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail, 
The pillared firmament is rottenness, 
And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on! 
Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven 600 

May never this just sword be lifted up ; 
But, for that damned magician, let him be girt 
With all the grisly legions that troop 
Under the sooty flag of Acheron,- 
Harpies ^ and Hydras,^ or all the monstrous forms 

1 Sentence. 

2 Acheron was one of the rivers of the infernal regions ; as here used, it 
eans hell itself. 

3 Loathsome winged monsters. ^ Huge water snakes. 



so MILTON. 

Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll jfind him out, 

And force him to return his purchase ^ back, 

Or drag him by the curls to a foul death, 

Cursed as his hfe, I 

Spirit, Alas! good venturous youth, 

I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise ; 6 1 d 

But here thy sword can do thee little stead. 
Far other arms and other weapons must 
Be those that quell the might of heUish charms. 
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints. 
And crumble all thy sinews. 

Elder Brother, Why, prithee, Shepherd, 

How durst thou then thyself approach so near 
As to make this relation? 

Spirit, Care and utmost shifts 2 

How to secure the Lady from surprisal 
Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad. 
Of small regard to see to,^ yet well skilled 62<; 

In every virtuous ^ plant and healing herb 
That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray. 
He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing ; 1 

Which when I did, he on the tender grass | 

Would sit, and hearken even to ecstasy, I 

And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 
And show me simples ^ of a thousand names. 
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties. 
Amongst the rest a small unsightly root, 
But of divine effect, he culled me out. 63c 

The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it. 
But in another country, as he said. 
Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : 
Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain 

1 " His purchase," i.e., what he has stolen; his booty. 

2 See note on line 273. ^ To look upon. 

4 Medicinal. ^ Simple medicinal remedies. 



COM US: A MASQUE, 51 

Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon ;i 

And yet more med'cinal is it than that Moly 2 

That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave. 

He called it Haemony,^ and gave it me, 

And bade me keep it as of sovran use 

'Gainst all enchantments, mildew blast, or damp, 640 

Or ghastly Furies' apparition. 

I pursed it up, but little reckoning made. 

Till now that this extremity compelled. 

But now I find it true ; for by this means 

I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised, 

Entered the very lime twigs of his spells,-* 

And yet came off. If you have this about you 

(As I will give you when we go) you may 

Boldly assault the necromancer's hall ; ^ 

Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood 650 

And brandished blade rush on him ; break his glass, 

And shed the luscious liquor on the ground ; 

But seize his wand. Though he and his curst crew 

Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high. 

Or, Hke the sons of Vulcan,^ vomit smoke. 

Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 

Elder Brother, Th}Tsis, lead on apace ; I'll follow thee ; 
And some good angel bear a shield before us! 

1 *' Clouted shoon," i.e., patched or hobnailed shoes. 

2 A fabulous herb having the power to protect against the charms of Circe. 
'-' It was black at the root, but the flower was like to milk. Moly the gods 
call it, but it is hard for mortal men to dig ; howbeit, with the gods all things 
^re possible. " (Odyssey, 303-306.) 

3 A name probably coined by Milton from H^monia (Thessaly), a land 
once famous for magic. 

4 '' Very lime twigs," etc., an allusion to the method of catching birds by 
means of twigs covered with a sticky substance. 

5 Vulcan was the god of fire. The allusion is probably to Cacus, a son 
cf Vulcan, who, according to Virgil, vomited huge volumes of smoke when 
pursued by Hercules. 



52 MILTON, 

The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of deliciousness: 
soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, 
and the Lady set in an enchanted chair: to whom he ofers his glass; which 
she puts by, and goes about to rise, 

Comus. Nay, Lady, sit. If I but wave this wand, j 
Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster, 660' 

And you a statue, or as Daphne ^ was, j 

Root bound, that fled Apollo. ' 

Lady. Fool, do not boast. 

Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind ^ 
Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees good. 

Comus. Why are you vexed. Lady? why do you frown? 
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger; from these gates 
Sorrow flies far. See, here be all the pleasures 
That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts. 
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670 

Brisk as the April buds in primrose season. I 

And first behold this cordial julep ^ here, 
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, 
With spirit of balm and fragrant syrups mixed. , 

Not that nepenthes ^ which the wife of Thone | 

In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, ' 

Is of such power to stir up joy as this, I 

To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 
Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 
And to those dainty limbs, which Nature lent 680 

For gentle usage and soft delicacy? 

1 A maiden beloved by Apollo. Being pursued by him, and likely to be 
overtaken, she prayed for aid, and was transformed into a laurel tree. 

2'*Corporal rind," i.e., bodily protection; body. ^ 

3 "Cordial julep," i.e., exhilarating drink. "Julep" is from two Persian' 
words meaning "rose" and "water." ] 

^ A care-dispelling drug, thought to have been opium, that Helen (daughter' ! 
of Jupiter by Leda) gave to her husband Menelaus. It was given her by 
Polydanma, wife of Thone. 



COMUS: A MASQUE, 53 

But you invert the covenants of her trust, 

And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, 

With that which you received on other terms, 

Scorning the unexempt condition 

By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 

Refreshment after toil, ease after pain. 

That have been tired all day without repast, 

And timely rest have wanted. But, fair virgin, 

This will restore all soon. 

Lady, 'Twill not, false traitor! 690 

'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
That thou hast banished from thy tongue with hes. 
Was this the cottage and the safe abode 
Thou told'st me of ? What grim aspects are these, 
These ugly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard me I 
Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver 1 
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence 
With vizored ^ falsehood and base forgery ? 
And would'st thou seek again to trap me here 
With liquorish^ baits, fit to insnare a brute? 700 

Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets, 
I would not taste thy treasonous offer. None 
But such as are good men can give good things ; 
And that which is not good is not delicious 
To a well-governed and wise appetite. 

Comus. O foolishness of men! that lend their ears 
To those budge ^ doctors of the Stoic ^ fiu:, 

^ Masked. 

2 From a German word meaning to "lick the lips; " hence, dainty, delicious. 

3 A kind of fur, or lamb's wool, formerly used for trimming scholastic 
habits. The word is sometimes used in the sense of "big," and may also 
mean "surly." 

^ The Stoics were Greek philosophers who taught that men should repress 
all exhibition of passion and should submit to unavoidable necessity without 
complaining. 



54 MILTOX. 

And fetch their precepts from the Cynic ^ tub, 

Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence! 

Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 710' 

With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 

Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, 

Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 

But all to please and sate the curious taste? 

And set to work milUons of spinning worms, 

That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk, 

To deck her sons ; and, that no corner might 

Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 

She hutched - the all-worshiped ore and precious gems, 

To store her children with. If all the world 720 

Should, in a pet of temperance, feed on pulse. 

Drink the clear stream, and nothing v/ear but frieze,^ 

The All-giver would be unthanked, w^ould be unpraised. 

Not half his riches known, and yet despised ; 

And we should serve him as a grudging master, 

As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 

Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 

And strangled with her waste fertility : 

The earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with 

plumes, 730 

The herds would overmultitude their lords ; 
The sea o'erfraught -^ would swell, and the unsought 

diamonds 
Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep. 
And so bestud with stars, that they below 
Would grow inured to light, and come at last 
To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 

1 The CjTiics were Greek philosophers noted for the austerity of their lives. 
Diogenes, the most distinguished member of the sect, lived in a tub. 

2 Laid up, as in a box. 3 Coarse woolen cloth. 
•* Overloaded; overfilled. 



COM US: A MASQUE, 55 

List, Lady ; be not coy, and be not cozened 
With that same vaunted name, Virginity. 
Beauty is Nature's coin ; must not be hoarded, 
But must be current ; and the good thereof 740 

Consists in mutual and partaken bhss, 
Unsavory in the enjoyment of itself. 
If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 
It withers on the stalk with languished head. 
Beauty is Nature's brag,^ and must be shown 
In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities. 
Where most may wonder at the workmanship. 
It is for homely featiu-es to keep home ; 
They had their name thence : coarse complexions 
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750 

The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool. 
What need of vermeil-tinctured 2 lip for that. 
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn? 
There was another. meaning in these gifts; 
Think what, and be advised ; you are but young yet. 
Lady, I had not thought to have unlocked my hps 
In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler 
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, 
Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb. 
I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments^ 760 

And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature, 
As if she would her children should be riotous 
With her abundance. She, good cateress. 
Means her provision only to the good, 
That live according to her sober laws, 
And holy dictate of spare Temperance. 
If every just man that now pines with want 

1 Boast. 2 Vermilion-colored. 

3 *' Bolt her arguments," i.e., set them forth with fine discrimination. 



56 MILTON. 

Had but a moderate and beseeming share 

Of that which lewdly-pampered Luxury 770 

Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 

Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 

In unsuperfluous even proportion, 

And she no whit encumbered with her store ; 

And then the Giver would be better thanked, 

His praise due paid : for swinish gluttony 

Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, 

But with besotted base ingratitude 

Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on? 

Or have I said enow? ^ To him that dares 78b! 

Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 

Against the sun clad power of chastity, 

Fain would I something say; — yet to what end? 

Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend 

The sublime notion and high mystery 

That must be uttered to unfold the sage 

And serious doctrine of virginity ; 

And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 

More happiness than this thy present lot. 

Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 790 

That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence; 2 

Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced. 

Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth 

Of this piu"e cause would kindle my rapt spirits 

To such a flame of sacred vehemence 

That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, 

And the brute ^ Earth would lend her nerves, and shake, 

Till all thy magic structures, reaired so high, 

Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head. 

Comus. She fables not. I feel that I do fear 800 

Her words set off by some superior power ; 

1 Enough. 2 Defense ; swordplay. ^ Senseless. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 57 

And, though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew 

Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 

Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus ^ 

To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 

And try her yet more strongly. — Come, no more! 

This is mere moral babble, and direct 

Against the canon laws of our foundation.^ 

I must not suffer this ; yet 'tis but the lees 

And settlings of a melancholy blood. 8io 

But this will cure all straight;^ one sip of this 

Will bathe the drooping spirits in dehght 

Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 



The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out of his hand, 
and break it against the ground: his rout make sign of resistance, but are 
all driven in. The Attendant Spirit comes in. 

Spirit, What! have you let the false enchanter scape? 
Oh, ye mistook ; ye should have snatched his wand, 
And bound him fast. Without his rod reversed. 
And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
We cannot free the Lady that sits here 
In stony fetters fixed and motionless. 
Yet stay: be not disturbed; now I bethink me, 820 

Some other means I have which may be used, 
^ , Which once of Meliboeus * old I learnt. 

The soothest ^ shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 

1 A name applied to the dark and gloomy space under the earth through 
which the souls of the dead were obliged to pass on their way to Hades. 
Milton uses it here for Tartarus, the prison house into which Jupiter cast the 
Titans, the adherents of his father Saturn. 

2 Institution. 3 Straightway; immediately. 

* Meliboeus is the name of one of the shepherds in VirgiFs Eclogues ; but 
Milton here probably refers to the poet Spenser, who told the story in the 
Faerie Queene, II., x., 19. 

5 Truest. 



58 MILTON. 

There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream : 
Sabrina is her name : a virgin pure ; 
Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, 
That had the scepter from his father Brute.^ 
She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
Of her enraged stepdame, Guendolen, 830 

Commended her fair innocence to the flood 
That stayed her flight with his 2 crossflowing course. 
The water nymphs, that in the bottom played, 
Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' ^ hall ; 
Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank ^ head, 
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel,^ 
And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
Dropt in ambrosial oils, till she revived, 840 

And underwent a quick immortal change. 
Made Goddess of the river.^ Still she retains 
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows. 
Helping all urchin blasts,'^ and ill-luck signs 

1 Brute, or Brutus, was said to have been a descendant of ^neas, and the 
first king of Britain. It was from him that the island derived its name. See 
note on line 923. 

2 Its. 

3 The good spirit of the sea, the father of the Nereids, or sea nymphs. 

4 Languid; drooping. 

5 " Nectared lavers," etc., i.e., baths into which nectar had been poured 
and where asphodels were growing. The asphodel was a flower found in 
Elysium. 

6 Geoffrey of Monmouth relates that Queen Guendolen, jealous of Sabrina 
and her mother, Estrildis, raised an army and made war upon Locrine. 
Locrine was defeated and slain, and Guendolen, assuming the government, 
commanded Estrildis and Sabrina to be cast into the river, which was ever 
afterwards called the Severn, after her. 

7 " Helping," etc., i.e., remedying the evil influences of bad fairies, such 



COM US: A MASQUE, 59 

That the shrewd meddHng elf deHghts to make, 

Which she with precious vialed Hquors heals : 

For which the shepherds, at their festivals, 

Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. 

And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream, 850 

Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils ; 

And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 

The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell, 

If she be right invoked in warbled song ; 

Fair maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 

To aid a virgin, such as was herself. 

In hard besetting need. This will I try, 

And add the power of some adjuring verse. 



SONG. 

Sabrinafair, 

Listen where thou art sitting 860 

Under the glassy^ cool, translucent wave^ 

In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
The loose train of thy aynber-dropping hairj 

Listen for dear honor's sake^ 

Goddess of the silver lake. 
Listen and save I 



Listen, and appear to us, 

In name of great Oceanus,^ 

By the earth-shaking Neptune* s macej 

And Tethys"* 2 grave majestic pace; 870 

By hoary Nereus* wrinkled look, 

And the Carpathian wizard's^ hook; 

as the blasting of com, etc. ** Urchin " originally meant the hedgehog, but 
came later to be applied to goblins, imps, and, finally, to mischievous children. 

1 An earlier sea god than Neptune. 2 The wife of Oceanus. 

3 Proteus, the shepherd of the sea, who had the care of Neptune's flocks 
of seals. 



6o MILTON, ' 

By scaly TritorCs ^ winding shelly 

And old soothsaying Glauctis* ^ spell; 

By Leucothea^s ^ lovely hands ^ 

And her son that rules the strands; I 

By Thetis* ^ tinsel-slippered feet ^ 

And the songs of Sirens sweet; i 

By dead Parthenope* s ^ dear tomby 1 

And fair Liged's ^ golden comb^ 880 

Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks 

Sleeking her soft alluring locks ; 

By all the nymphs that nightly dance 

Upon thy streams with wily glance ; 

Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 

From thy coral-paven bed, 

And bridle in thy headlong wave, 

Till thou our summons answered have. 

Listen and save ! 1 

Sabrina rises, attended by Water Nymphs, and sings. j 

By the rushy fringed bank, 890 i 
Where grows the willow and the osier dank, 

My sliding chariot stays. 

Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen '^ | 

Of tiirkis^ blue, and emerald green ^ \ 

That in the channel strays ; I 

I 

1 The son of Neptune. He is represented with a trumpet made of a wind- 1 
ing shell, and is sometimes called the herald of the sea. 

2 A Greek fisherman who obtained a place aYnong the sea gods, and had ^ 
the power of prophecy. I 

3 Ino, fleeing from her mad husband. King Athamas, leaped into the sea ■ 
with her young son in her arms. The Nereids received them and made them 
sea deities, changing the name of Ino to Leucothea, or the *' white goddess" i 
Her son was Palsemon, the guardian of harbors. I 

4 A Nereid, called ** the silver-footed," the mother of Achilles. 

5 One of the Sirens, whose dead body was washed ashore on the present ) 
site of Naples. 

6 Another Siren. The name signifies *' the shrill voiced." 

"^ '* Azurn sheen," i.e., azured gleam. 8 Turquoise. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 6 1 

Whilst from off the waters fleet 
Thus I set my prhitless feet 
O^er the cowslip's velvet head. 

That bends not as I tread. 
Gentle swain, at thy request 900 

I am here! 

Spirit. Goddess dear, 
We implore thy powerful hand 
To undo the charmed band 
Of true virgin here distressed 
Through the force and through the wile 
Of unblessed enchanter vile. 

Sabrina, Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
To help ensnared chastity. — 

Brightest Lady, look on me. 910 

Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
Drops that from my fountain pure 
I have kept of precious cure ; 
Thrice upon thy finger's tip, 
Thrice upon thy rubied lip : 
Next this marble venomed seat, 
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, 
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold. 
Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
And I must haste ere morning hour 920 

To wait in Amphitrite's ^ bower. 

Sabrina descends^ and the Lady rises out of her seat. 

Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, 
Sprung of old Anchises' ^ line, 

1 Wife of Neptune. 

2 Anchises, a Trojan prince and father of ^neas, escaped from the Greeks 
at the destruction of Troy by being carried out of the burning city on the back 
of his son. Brutus, the grandfather of Sabrina, was the great-grandson of 
i^neas. 



62 MILTON. 

May thy brimmed waves for this 

Their full tribute never miss 

From a thousand petty rills, 

That tumble down the snowy hills : . 

Summer drouth or singed ^ air 

Never scorch thy tresses ^ fair, 

Nor wet October's torrent flood 930 

Thy molten crystal fill with mud.; 

May thy billows roll ashore 

The beryl and the golden ore ; 

May thy lofty head be crowned 

With many a tower and terrace round, 

And here and there thy banks upon 

With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 

Come, Lady ; while Heaven lends us grace, 
Let us fly this cursed place, 

Lest the sorcerer us entice 940 

With some other new device. 
Not a waste ^ or needless sound 
Till we come to holier ground. 
I shall be your faithful guide 
Through this gloomy covert wide ; 
And not many furlongs thence 
Is your father's residence. 
Where this night are met in state 
Many a friend to gratulate 

His wished presence, and beside 950 

All the swains that there abide 
With jigs and rural dance resort. 
We shall catch them at their sport, 
And oiu: sudden coming there 



■•^ Singeing; scorching hot. 

2 Referring to the foliage along the banks of the Severn. 

3 Useless. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 63 

Will double all their mirth and cheer. 
Come, let us haste ; the stars grow high, 
But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 

The Scene changes, p7'esenting Ludlow Town^ and the Presidenfs Castle ; 
the7t come in Country Dancers; after them the ATTENDANT Spirit, with 
the Two Brothers and the Lady. 

SONG. 

Spirit. Back, shepherds, back! Enough your play 
Till next sunshine holiday. 

Here be, without duck or nod,^ 960 

Other trippings to be trod 
Of lighter toes, and such couri guise 
As Mercury 2 did first devise 
With the mincing Dryades ^ 
On the lawns and on the leas. 

This second Song prese^its the7n to their Father and Mother, 

Noble Lord and Lady bright, 
I have brought ye new delight. 
Here behold so goodly grow7t 
Three fair branches of your own. 

Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 970 

Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
And sent them, here through hard assays ^ 
With a crown of deathless praise. 
To triumph in victorious dance 
O^er sensual folly and inte77iperance. 

The dances ended y the Spirit epiloguizes. 

Spirit. To the ocean now I fly, 
And those happy climes that lie 

1 ** Duck or nod," forms of obeisance peculiar to country folk, or servants. 

2 Mercury (Hermes), the messenger of the gods, was the ideal of agility 
and grace. 

3 Wood nymphs. ^ Trials. 



64 MILTON, 

Where day never shuts his eye, 

Up in the broad fields of the sky. 

There I suck the hquid air, 980 

All amidst the gardens fair 

Of Hesperus,! and his daughters three 

That sing about the golden tree. 

Along the crisped shades and bowers 

Revels the spruce and jocund Spring ; 

The Graces 2 and the rosy-bosomed Hours ^ 

Thither all their bounties bring. 

There eternal Summer dwells, 

And west winds with musky wing 

About the cedam ^ alleys fling 990 

Nard and cassia's ^ balmy smells. 

Iris ^ there with humid bow 

Waters the odorous banks, that blow 

Flowers of more mingled hue 

Than her purfled "^ scarf can show. 

And drenches with Elysian dew 

(List, mortals, if your ears be true) 

Beds of hyacinth and roses. 

Where young Adonis ^ oft reposes, 

Waxing wxll of his deep wound, 1000 

In slumber soft, and on the ground 

1 See note on line 393. '* The Hesperides were daughters of Hesperus, 
god of the West.'' (Guerber.) 

2 See note on L' Allegro, line 15. 

3 The Horse (the goddesses of the seasons) were three in number, and 
were the daughters of Jupiter and Themis. 

^ Cedar lined. 

5 ** Nard and cassia," i.e., spikenard and aromatic laurel. 

^ See note on line %2>' 

'^ Embroidered. 

8 A beautiful youth, loved by Venus, and slain by a wild boar which he 
was hunting. On account of Venus 's grief for him the gods of the lower 
world allowed him to return to the earth for six months every year. 



COM US: A MASQUE. 65 

Sadly sits the Assyrian queen.i 

But far above, in spangled sheen, 

Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced 

Holds his dear Psyche,^ sweet entranced 

After her wandering labors long, 

Till free consent the gods among 

]\Iake her his eternal bride, 

And from her fair unspotted side 

Two blissful twins are to be born, loio 

Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 

But now my task is smoothly done : 
I can fly, or I can run 
Quickly to the green earth's end. 
Where the bowed welkin ^ slow doth bend. 
And from thence can soar as soon 
To the comers of the moon. 
Mortals, that would follow me, 
Love Virtue ; she alone is free. 

She can teach ye how to climb 1020 

Higher than the sphery chime ;^ 
Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
Heaven itself would stoop to her. 

1 Venus. She was worshiped in Assyria as Astarte. 

2 Psyche, the youngest of three daughters of a king, was loved by Cupid. 
As a punishment for distrusting him she was forced to wander from place 
to place and to endure many hardships. Finally, however, Cupid claimed 
her as his *' eternal bride," and she was admitted with him among the gods. 

3 " Bowed welkin," i.e., arched dome of the sky. 

4 ** Sphery chime," i.e., the music of the spheres ; the starry choir referred 
to in line 112. The universe, according to the ancients, consisted of nine 
spheres, carrying the sun, moon, planets, and fixed stars, which in their 
daily revolution produced an exquisite music, too fine for mortal ears. 

5 



66 MILTON. 



LYCIDAS. 

In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately drowneq 
in his passage from Chester on the Irish seas, 1637; and, by occasion, 
foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy, then in their height. 1 

Yet once more, O ye laurels,^ and once more, 

Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude. 

And with forced ^ fingers rude 

Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 

Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear 

Compels me to disturb your season due ; 

For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 

Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. 

Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew icj 

Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 

He must not float upon his watery bier 

Unwept, and welter to the parching wind. 

Without the meed of some melodious tear. 

Begin, then. Sifters ^ of the sacred well | 

That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring ; I 

Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. 
Hence with denial vain and coy excuse : 

So may some gentle Muse 

I 
I 

1 The laurel was sacred to Apollo, and has always been associated with 
poetry. The myrtle was sacred to Venus. Ivy was used to deck the brows 
of the learned, and was sacred to Bacchus. It has been suggested that Mil- 
ton, in naming these three plants, intends a delicate allusion to King's poetry, 
beauty, and learning. 

2 Unwilling. 

3 The nine Muses. See note on II Penseroso, line 47. By the " sacred 
well " the poet probably means the Pierian fountain at the foot of Mounl 
Olympus, the birthplace of the Muses and the '' seat of Jove." 



LYCTDAS. 67 

With lucky words favor my destined urn,i 20 

And as he passes, turn 

And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud I^ 

For we were nursed upon the selfsame hill, 
Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill ; ^ 
Together both, ere the high lawns appeared 
Under the opening eyehds of the Morn, 
We drove a-field, and both together heard 
What time the grayfly winds her sultry horn,^ 
Battening ^ our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
Oft till the star that rose at evening bright 30 

Towards heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. 
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute ; 
Tempered to the oaten flute,^ 

Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns "^ with cloven heel 
From the glad sound would not be absent long ; 
And old Damoetas ^ loved to hear our song. 

But, oh! the heavy change, now thou art gone, 
Now thou art gone and never must return! 
Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves, 

1 " My destined urn," i.e., my approaching or inevitable death. The 
Romans deposited the ashes of their dead in urns. 

2 ** Sable shroud," i.e., dark tomb. 

3 '* For we were nursed," etc. Referring to the fact of their companion- 
ship at college, and the sameness of their tastes and pursuits. 

4 " Winds," etc., i.e., hums in the noontide heat. 

5 Feeding; fattening. 

6 *' Meanwhile," etc. Reference is made to the early poetical attempts of 
Milton and King. The *' oaten flute " was made of reeds or straws, and was 
a favorite musical instrument among shepherds ; hence it is emblematic of 
pastoral poetry. The poets of this age were fond of representing their call- 
ing as that of shepherds. 

7 The Satyrs of Greek mythology were represented as of a pleasure-loving 
nature, always engaged in dance and song. The Roman Fauns — half men, 
half goats — were of a similar nature. 

8 A name frequently used in pastoral poetry. It is supposed to refer here 
to some "well-remembered Fellow of Christ's College." 



p8 MILTOX. 

With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 40 

And all their echoes, mourn. 

The willows, and the hazel copses green, 

Shall now no more be seen 

Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 

As killing as the canker to the rose, 

Or taintworm to the weanling herds that graze, 

Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear. 

When first the whitethorn blows ; 

Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. 

Where were ye. Nymphs, when the remorseless deep 50 
Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas? 
For neither were ye playing on the steep ^ 
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 
Nor on the shaggy top of Mona ^ high. 
Nor yet where Deva^ spreads her wizard stream. 
Ay me! I fondly dream 

'" Had ye been there," — for what could that have done? 
What could the Muse ^ herself that Orpheus bore, 
The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 
Whom universal nature did lament, 60 

When, by the rout that made the hideous roar. 
His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? 

Alas! what boots it with uncessant care 
To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade, 

1 ** The steep," etc., probably Penmaenmawr in Wales, an old Druidic 
burial place. 

2 The wooded heights of the island of Anglesey, the favorite haunt of the 
Welsh Druids. 

3 The river Dee, the ancient boundary between England and Wales, and 
for that reason regarded with a kind of superstitious reverence. 

4 Calliope, the mother of Orpheus. The Thracian women, celebrating 
the orgies of Bacchus, became enraged at Orpheus, tore him in pieces, and 
threw his remains into the river Hebrus. His head was washed ashore on 
the island of Lesbos. 



LYCIDAS. 69 

And Strictly meditate the thankless Muse? 

Were it not better done, as others use/ 

To sport with Amaryllis ^ in the shade, 

Or with the tangles of Neaera's^ hair? 

Fame is the spur that the clear ^ spirit doth raise 70 

(That last infirmity of noble mind) 

To scorn delights and live laborious days ; 

But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 

And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 

Comes the blind Fury ^ with the abhorred shears, 

And slits the thin-spun life. '' But not the praise," 

Phoebus ^ replied, and touched my trembling ears : 

" Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 

Nor in the glistering foil 

Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor hes,^ 80 

But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 

And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 

As he pronounces lastly on each deed, 

Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed." 

O fountain Arethuse,"^ and thou honored flood, 
Smooth-sliding Mincius,^ crowned with vocal reeds, 
That strain I heard was of a higher mood. 

1 Are accustomed to do.' 

2 Amaryllis and Nesera are names of shepherdesses in the Greek and Latin 
pastorals. 

2 Noble ; pure. 

4 It was one of the Fates, AtropoSj and not a Fury, that was said to cut 
the threads of life. In speaking of her as blind, the poet means to imply 
that she knows no distinction. See Thumann's picture of the three Fates in 
Guerber's Myths of Greece and Rome. 

5 Apollo is here referred to as the god of song. 

6 " Fame is no plant," etc., i.e., fame is not a product merely of this life, 
nor does it consist in the superficial glitter which delights the world, nor in 
the widespread notoriety which some men attain. 

"7 A fountain near Syracuse, sacred to the nymph Arethusa; here men- 
tioned in allusion to the Sicilian poet, Theocritus, who was born there. 

8 A river in northern Italy, famous as flowing past the birthplace of Virgil. 



70 MILTON. 

But now my oat ^ proceeds, 

And listens to the Herald of the Sea,^ 

That came in Neptune's plea. 90 

He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, 

What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain? 

And questioned every gust of rugged wings 

That blows from off each beaked promontory. 

They knew not of his story ; 

And sage Hippotades^ their answer brings, 

That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed : 

The air was calm, and on the level brine 

Sleek Panope ^ with all her sisters played. 

It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 100 

Built in the eclipse,^ and rigged with curses dark, 

That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 

Next, Camus,^ reverend sire, went footing slow, 
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge,'^ 
Inwrought with figures dim,^and on the edge 
Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.® 
"Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, ''my dearest pledge? " 

1 My pastoral muse. See note on line "^-^ above. 

2 Triton, son of Neptune, comes forward in the name of his father to 
make a judicial inquiry concerning tlie cause of the shipwreck in which 
Lycidas had perished. 

3 yEolus, king of the winds and son of Hippotes. 

^ A sea nymph, one of the daughters of Nereus. See note on Nereus, 
Comus, line S35. 

5 It was a very common superstition that eclipses brought misfortune upon 
all undertakings that were begun or completed during their appearance. 

6 The genius of the river Cam, and of Cambridge University. 

'^ *' The ' mantle hairy' is the hairy river weed that is found floating on 
the Cam ; and the ' bonnet ' is the sedge that grows in the river and along its 
edge." (Bell.) 8 Sho^vnng the antiquity of Cambridge. 

9 *' Sanguine flower,'' etc., referring to the hyacinth. Hyacinthus was a 
youth beloved by Apollo, and accidentally slain by him while playing at quoits. 
From his blood sprang the flower which bears his name, on the leaves of 
which are certain marks said to resemble the Greek word AI (" alas!"). 



LYCIBAS, 71 

Last came, and last did go, 

The Pilot 1 of the Galilean Lake ; 

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain no 

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). 

He shook his mitered locks,^ and stern bespake : — 

*' How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,^ 

Enow of such as,^ for their beUies' sake. 

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold! 

Of other care they litde reckoning make 

Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast. 

And shove away the worthy bidden guest. 

Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to hold 

A sheephook, or have learnt aught else the least 120 

That to the faithful herdman's art belongs! 

What recks it them ? ^ What need they ? They are sped ; « 

And, when they Hst, their lean and flashy songs 

Grate on their scrannel ^ pipes of wretched straw ; 

The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed. 

But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, 

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread ; 

Besides what the grim wolf ^ with privy paw 

Daily devours apace, and nothing said. 

But that two-handed engine at the door 130 

1 St. Peter. In Christian art he is ahvays represented with two keys in 
his hands ; the one to open the gates of heaven, the other, to close them by 
force. See Comus, line 13. 

2 '' Mitered locks," i.e., his head crowned with a bishop's headdress, or 

miter. 

3 " For thee, young swain." Edward King had been educated for the 
Church, and was about to be ordained. 

^ " Enow of such," etc. From here to the end of line 131, reference is 
made to Archbishop Laud and the debased character of the clergy during his 
administration. Laud had now been archbishop for five years. 

5 *' What recks it them? " i.e., what do they care? 

« Provided for. "^ Meager ; thin. 

8 Milton refers here to the Roman Catholic Church and its converts. 



72 MILTON. 

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more." ^ 

Return, Alpheus;^ the dread voice is past 
That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicihan Muse,^ 
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. 
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
On whose fresh lap the swart star^ sparely looks, 
Throw hither all your quaint enameled eyes, 
That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 140 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe ^ primrose that forsaken dies. 
The tufted crowtoe, and pale jessamine. 
The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, 
The glowing violet. 

The musk rose, and the well-attired woodbine. 
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears ; 
Bid amaranthus all his ^ beauty shed, 
And daffadillies '^ fill their cups with tears, 150 

To strew the laureate hearse ^ where Lycid lies. 
For so, to interpose a little ease, 

1 '* But that two-handed engine," etc., i.e., but the instrument of retribu- 
tion is ready, and will soon bring swift and complete punishment upon the 
corrupted clergy. See the latter part of the argument, or note, immediately 
following the title to this poem. 

2 The river god who was the lover of Arethusa, and made one with her in 
the fountain near Syracuse; hence, like her, symbolizing pastoral poetry.. 

3 The Muse of pastoral poetry. 

* Sirius, the Dog Star ; called swart, or swarthy, on account of its sup- 
posed influence upon vegetation, being in the ascendency during the hottest 
months of the year. 

5 Early. 6 Jts. See note on Comus, line 248. 

'7 Daffotlils ; meaning the same as asphodels, from the Greek name of a 
flower of the lily family. 

8 '* Laureate hearse," i.e., poet's tomb. See Note i, p. 66. 



LYCIDAS, 73 

Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 

Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 

AVash far away, where'er thy bones are hurled ; 

Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 

Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide 

Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ; 

Or whether thou, to our moist vows i denied, 

Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus^ old, i6o 

Where the great Vision ^ of the guarded mount 

Looks towards Namancos and Bayona's hold.^ 

Look homeward, Angel,^ now, and melt with ruth : 

And, O ye dolphins,^ waft the hapless youth. 

Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, 
For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, 
Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. 
So sinks the day-star '^ in the ocean bed, 
And yet anon repairs his drooping head. 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore ^ 170 
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky : 
So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high. 
Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves,^ 
Where, other groves and other streams along, 

1 '* Moist vows," i.e., tearful prayers. 

2 *' Fable of Bellerus," i.e., fabled Bellerus. Bellerus is the name of a 
Cornish giant, so called from Bellerium, the ancient name of Land's End, 
Cornwall. 

3 The vision of St. Michael, on St. Michael's Mount, near Land's End. 
The mountain is spoken of as ** guarded," in allusion to the legend of the 
archangel's appearance on one of its crags. 

^ Namancos and Bayona were near Cape Finisterre in Spain, and in the 
direct line of vision southwestward from Land's End. 

5 St. Michael. 

6 The allusion is to the story of the musician Arion, who, having thrown 
himself into the sea to escape from pirates, Mas taken up by dolphins, and 
carried on their backs safe to land. 

7 The sun. 8 Gold. » See Matt. xiv. 25. 



74 MILTON. 

With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 

And hears the unexpressive ^ nuptial song,^ 

In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 

There entertain him all the Saints above, 

In solemn troops, and sweet societies, 

That sing, and singing in their glory move, i8o 

And wipe the tears forever from his eyes.*^ 

Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep, no more ; 

Henceforth thou art the Genius ^ of the shore, 

In thy large recompense,^ and shalt be good 

To all that wander in that perilous flood. 

Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, 
While the still morn went out with sandals gray : 
He touched the tender stops of various quills, 
With eager thought warbhng his Doric lay:^ 
And now the sun had stretched out'^ all the hills, 190 

And now was dropt into the western bay. 
At last he rose, and twitched ^ his mantle blue : 
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 

1 Inexpressible. 

2 " Nuptial song," i.e., marriage hymn. See Rev. xix. 6, 7, 9. 

3 See Isaiah xxv. 8, and Rev. vii. 17. ■* Guardian spirit. 

5 " In thy large recompense," i.e., as a great recompense to thee. 

6 The ancient pastoral poets wrote in the Doric dialect. A ** Doric lay," 
therefore, is a pastoral poem or song. 

7 '* Stretched out," i.e., lengthened the shadows of. 
"S Drew closely about him. 



' JOHN MILTON. 

I Perhaps no age was fraught with more vital interest for Enghsh 
land American history than that of John Milton. And perhaps no 
[author more resolutely took his part in a great national struggle, and 
'so completely dedicated his talents to the defense of a great cause. 
Every one of Milton's works, prose and poetry, has a distinct bear- 
!ing upon the pubHc questions of his time, and is understood clearly 
I only in relation to the time when it was written. 

It has already been pointed out in the introduction that Milton 
was an active participator in the great fight for rehgious and poHtical 
liberty against ecclesiastical and royal encroachments. It only re- 
mains to make this a Kttle more clear to the reader not famiHar with 
Enghsh history. To those who were taking -their share in the fight, 
the question of rehgious hberty was not often distinguished from that 
of pohtical hberty; yet it will be well for us to take up each of these 
in turn. 

To Americans, who see the government look upon all rehgious 
sects with equal toleration, it seems somewhat of an incongruity to 
have a national government favor one particular creed. Yet this 
is exactly what now takes place in ahnost every country in Europe. 
In England the State Church, or Estabhshed Church, is the so- 
called Episcopal Church or Church of England. It grew out of a 
compromise made during the Reformation, between the Catholic 
party on the one side, and the extreme Protestant party on the 
other. The object was to frame a church government and dogma 
which could attract people from both parties. In spirit the church 
was Protestant, in form almost Catholic. 

As is natural with all compromises, this new church failed entirely 
to attract to it extremists of either party. Even during the reign of 
Queen Elizabeth there had been a strong Cathohc reaction against 
the Estabhshed Church, which reached its crisis during the years 

75 



76 JOHN MILTON, 

that immediately preceded the defeat of the Spanish Armada, whet 
plot after plot was aimed at Ehzabeth's life with the object o\ 
placing Mary Queen of Scots on the throne, and establishing th^ 
CathoHc worship again in England. The Spanish Armada, howeverf 
put a rest to Cathohc activity for many years to come. During al 
this while the extreme Protestants had not been idle. While CathoHc 
supremacy threatened all Protestants alike, they had loyally upheld' 
the arms of EUzabeth; but when that danger was past, they became 
more and more insistent that there be made a few changes in church^ 
government which would make it savor less strongly of Rome. ^ 

After the succession of James, the son of Mary Queen of Scots,' 
who understood his people less than almost any EngHsh king — and 
there have been many of them who possessed more than their sharq' 
of stupidity — matters went from bad to worse. Not only did he re-i^ 
fuse to grant even the mildest church reforms, but, freed from danger 
from the EngHsh CathoHcs, he courted the friendship of CathoHcsJ 
in Spain and France. Exasperated by the growing obstinacy of 
these extreme Protestants, or Puritans as they had been cahed for| 
some time, he and the leaders in the church passed stringent lawsl 
against Nonconformers. These instead of heaHng the disorder merely: 
aggravated the symptoms. \ 

Nor must it be supposed that these Puritans formed a homogeneous 
party. Protestantism is in its essence a revolt against every party, 
and a setting up of the individual as the sole arbiter in the matter of 
religion. This extreme position, however, was not taken at first by 
many Protestants. But by the outbreak of the Civil War (1642) 
these extreme Puritans numbered a considerable party, the Independ- 
ents, or as they are better known to-day, the CongregationaHsts. 
They desired complete religious toleration, the privilege for each con- 
gregation to worship God as it saw fit. To this party belonged Milton 
and CromweU; and it was this party that made the most enthusiastic 
fighters in the War, and that finaUy beheaded King Charles I. An 
older and stronger body of Puritans were the Calvinists or Presby- 
terians, taking as their model of church government the one estab- 
lished by John Calvin at Geneva. Both parties were heartily in 
accord in their abhorrence of church government by bishops, of 
church altars, surpliced choirs, and any other forms or observances 
that detracted from the simpHcity of worship of the primitive church. 



JOHN MILTON. 77 

But especially galling to the Puritans was the support which the 
religious tyranny gave to the growing abuse of power by the crown 
and its advisers. Archbishop Laud, as the head of the Church of 
England, was the close confidant of Charles I, and seconded his every 
effort to bring the neck of the people under the yoke. 

"God . . . made you a httle God, to sit on his Throne, and rule 
over men." This reads hke queer advice, but the words were written 
by James I to his son Charles when he was all of five years old. It 
was the same king who wrote to Parliament, "Kings are not only 
God's Heutenants upon earth, and sit upon God's throne, but even 
by God himself they are called Gods." This might be acceptable to 
some Hght-thoughted courtiers, but to men of the type of mind of 
Milton, and to men who made thoughts of God and Infinity their 
chiefest daily concern, it was hardly edifying reading. And King 
James I and his son Charles I attempted to carry out this program 
in their government. 

That such an attempt, judging by the past history of England, 
would be foredoomed to failure, ought not to have been doubted. 
EHzabeth, even in the height of her popularity, had never ventured 
on any course of action against the expressed wishes of her subjects. 
Though she understood and insisted upon the divine right of kings, : 
and the necessity of obedience for subjects, she also knew how to 
retire gracefully from an untenable position. But these kings had at 
their elbows apparently clear-sighted statesmen, men like Lord Bacon, 
who fostered the notion of royal irresponsibility to their subjects. 
And when it became necessary for them to respect parHamentary 
pressure, they did so suUenly and with impHed threats of speedy 
retribution. 

Such was the clash of opinions during the age when Milton Hved 
and wrote. We can turn now to glance for a moment at the state of 
hterature and thought. 

The age of Ehzabeth had been an age of joyous exercise of all the 
natural powers of thought as well as of action. There was the ap- 
parent spontaneity of childhood. Enthusiasm was the watchword 
for all that men undertook. They had been eager students of both 
man and nature, but they had rarely looked upon the one with the 
eyes of a scientist, or upon the other with the desire to penetrate 
into the secrets of the why and wherefore of his Hfe upon this earth. 



78 JOHN MILTON. 

i 

Like children, again, they took Hfe and nature as they found themi 
and reveled in them. 

Now this was all changed. Gloomy days succeeded the glorious 
spring of Elizabeth's reign. Hardly had her reign come to a close 
when we find Shakespeare turning from his joyous comedies to his 
deepest tragedies. The most popular writer of comedies, Ben Jonson, \ 
wrote plays filled with a humor very different from that which radiated | 
gladness and pure fun in ^4^ You Like it and Twelfth Night, We have | 
seen how serious were the problems that called loudly for solution,' 
and before such the human mind cannot preserve its healthful gayety. I 

As there were two parties in the State, — those who sided with the ' 
king and the court, the Cavaliers, and those who threw their lot 
with the Parliament, of whom the Puritans were the most active 
party, — so there were, in general, two parties of writers. There were 
the court poets, who like the courtiers persisted to the last in a mad 
chase of pleasure, knowing full well that the day of reckoning was 
at hand, and bound to get as much wild gayety as the narrow time 
would afford. Yet under this mask of gayety there was the quivering 
lip, for life is so short and its pleasures so fleeting. Of all the court 
poets the most exquisite was Robert Herrick, and we over and over 
again catch the note of sadness, that sounds like an undertone to 
bU of his most joyous poems. 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 

Old Time is yet a-flying; 
And this same flower that smiles to-day, 

To-morrow will be dying. 

There is a hilarity about much of the work of these court poets 
that reminds us of nothing quite so much as -of a drunken orgy before 
a dreadful battle. And yet their moments of sober thought would 
come, when they would write with almost equally feverish eagerness 
a paraphrase of a penitential psalm or a religious hymn. 

Opposed to these were the poets and writers who wrote with a 
distinctly religious or theological purpose. In 1611 the Authorized 
Translation of the Bible was published, the labor of the best scholars 
of the time. It was perhaps vainly hoped that it would settle the 
religious problems that were uppermost. Shortly before, the scholar 
Hooker had written his great work on Ecclesiastical PoHty, a masterly 



JOHN MILTON, 79 

defense of the Episcopal Church. If the Puritans produced Httle 
real literature in the battle of pamphlets that raged for years, it was 
not because they were devoid of either seriousness or ability to urge 
their side. 

But of reKgious poems there were more than England had known 
to that time. Of these Robert Herrick has given us not a few, though 
he to the last remained in spirit a courtier. John Donne, in his later 
Kfe, atoned for the love lyrics of his early years by volumes of rehgious 
poems. Many attempts at epics were made on subjects drawn from 
sacred history. If we glance over the mass of poetry that was then 
produced, of which the most has long been forgotten, we see that by 
far the greater part was of a deeply serious or religious nature. The 
majority of the people were in no mood to receive only the Hvely 
songs of the cavalier poets. 

We must note a rise in importance of a body of serious-minded men, 
who so far had not often been seen in England, the philosophers and 
scientists. The age of Elizabeth had been one of Romance, now it 
was a time of observation and thought. Bacon came after Shake- 
speare. Scientists spent their time examining man and nature, not as 
something to be enjoyed but to be studied, analyzed and classified. 
Even men who had, during the age of EHzabeth, been foremost among 
the romanticists now were tinged with this aU-pervading gravity. 
It is a melancholy picture to see the old Sir Walter Raleigh, a prisoner 
in the Tower, giving up for the time his ideal of an English empire 
over the seas, and writing his serious History of the World. And one 
sentence in that great work gives us a keynote of the thought of the 
age. 

O eloquent, just and mighty Death! whom none could advise thou 
hast persuaded; what none hath dared thou hast done; and whom 
all the world hath flattered thou only hast cast out of the world and 
despised, thou hast drawn together all the star-stretched greatness, 
all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over 
with these two narrow words: Hie jacetT^ 

It was an age of other-worldliness, of melancholy, not the capricious 
pouting of a child that cannot have the toy he wishes, but a deep- 
seated feehng that Kfe has a far deeper meaning than the mere pleas- 
ures we may get out of it, that its roots are inextricably bound up 
with the past and the future, that its joys must be sober joys, and 



8o JOHN MILTON. 

that man must live with his eyes fastened upon Infinity. The age 
was ripe for a Milton. 

And now let us see what kind of a man this John Milton was, who; 
was born in London only five years after James came to the throne,; 
and whose youth was passed while these mighty problems of poHtics' 
and rehgion were still in the arena of discussion, and who had barely! 
arrived at manhood when they passed to the battlefield. 

^'He that would hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, 
ought himself to be a true poem; that is, a composition and pattern 
of the best and most honorable things.'^ These are Alilton's own- 
words defining a true poet. Before a man can become a leader of 
thought, and a quickener of ideals, he must first develop in himself 
the ideal man. He knew that man is more than mortal, and to gain 
the power he sought he went with "devout prayer to that Eternal 
Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge." Here 
are perhaps the secrets of Milton's power. No poet ever more con-[ 
sciously set himself apart for the consecration of the poet's Hfe. Not 
one more consistently followed out the ideal he had set himself. 

His early youth was passed amid an atmosphere of serious study, 
music and poetry. His father was a quiet scholar and a musician of 
no common merit. And it is to him that he owed the early bent of \ 
his Hfe to study, and his deHcate ear for the subtly musical power of i 
words. He had the best of masters when at school; and when he went i 
to college, if his career was not as briUiant as it might have been, \ 
it was probably because he saw that there were many husks mixed 
with the grain in a college training, and he carefully selected only [ 
the grain. He would not mold his life according to the academic' 
forms of his time, for he saw that, to a soul Hke his, any mold that 
does not allow full play to all the poetic faculties is intolerable. 

Milton matured late. He wrote Httle poetry while at college, | 
chiefly in Latin. One or two in EngHsh gave promise of his future ' 
power. The Hymn on the Morning of Christ'' s Nativity contained some 
of the boldest flights of the imagination into the sublime that had 
so far appeared in Enghsh Hterature, and let us see in this young i 
man of twenty-one the poet of the Paradise Lost. But IMilton wrote 
fewer "early poems" than any other EngHsh poet. Or if he wrote 
them he ruthlessly sacrificed them, holding back only the best, in t 
his desire to leave nothing except what the world would not wilHngly 



JOHN. MILTON. 8l 

let die. On the twenty- third anniversary in a sonnet he complains 
that he is approaching manhood only in years, not in deeds. 

He was careful in his work. Of this period he said afterwards 
"whether aught was imposed upon me by them that had the over- 
looking, or betaken to of my own choice, in EngHsh or other tongue, 
prosing or versing, but chiefly the latter, the style by certain vital 
signs it had was likely to live." But strangely, he did not regard 
himself at this age as fitted to take up poetry as his life's labor. Time 
must yet be spent in completing his education. He must retire into 
himself and study his own powers. This he did during a five years' 
stay at his father's country place at Horton. He must study the 
political and reHgious questions of the time. He must travel and get 
the best he could from the learned in France and Italy. But this 
slow development, through conscious restraint, reached maturity in 
a completely rounded manhood. 

Milton's Ufe has been divided into three periods. 

1. The period of his preparation for his fife's work, which was 
closed in 1638 on his return from Italy. During this time he wrote 
Httle more than the poems in this volume. At its close he felt that 
poetry and music must, at least, for a while, be set aside for the 
sterner duty of lending his aid in the great fight soon to be waged for 
civil and reHgious Hberty. 

2. The period of his participation in the struggle against civil and 
reHgious tyranny. He then wrote practicaUy nothing but prose. 
This period was closed in 1660 by the return of the king, and the 
apparent loss of everything he had championed. 

3. The last period when he again found himself in poetry, and com- 
posed the Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. 

With the last two periods we have nothing to do here. But it is 
interesting to see that even in his earliest poems he clearly showed 
traits that distinguish his work to the end of his Hfe. 

One of the things that strikes us most forcibly when we read Mil- 
ton's Hfe and his poems, is the strength of his character, and his power 
to perform resolutely the task he had in hand. Life with him was no 
May-day game with pure pleasure as its aim. Like most of the men 
of his time he was impressed with the seriousness of the times and of 
his mission. In his twenty-third year, while at coHege, he lamented 
that few signs of maturing powers showed themselves. Mere college 



82 JOHN MILTON, 

life and application to his studies did not fill his ambition. Later he 
wrote his joyous U Allegro, in which he reveled in the noblest of de- 
lights; but he instantly followed it by the ode to melancholy, or se- 
riousness, in II Penseroso. And of the two poems it is not difficult to 
imagine which came nearer to expressing his own ideal. 

So it was through all his life. He knew the pure joy of fife, the 
beauty of nature and of the human heart. There is as much beauty, 
if not more, in passages in Paradise Lost as there is in the beautiful 
spring poem U Allegro, But he turned away from pure beauty and 
joy for its own sake, and set his heart on the more serious aspects of 
life. For he knew that if man master the deeper problems of duty and 
obedience to the great laws of the universe, he can turn with double 
deHght and with fuller understanding to a contemplation of the 
beautiful in man and nature. 

And it was this feeHng of the serious nature of the problem that 
England was then facing, that made Milton, the poet, become Milton, 
the secretary of the Commonwealth, and the defender of the regicides. 
For had not Charles attempted to set at naught some of the principles 
which EngHshmen had grown to recognize as their inherent birth- 
right? 

As is pointed out in the Introduction, the spirit of U Allegro is 
that of the best of the lighter singers of his day, the court or cavaHer 
poets. The // Penseroso gives the feeHngs of the more thoughtful of 
the time, and of these a large number were Puritans. Thus before 
us are set the two ideals that were engaging people's attention at that 
time. He knew both, could share the emotions of both, but deHber- 
ately selected the latter when he saw to what the former might lead. 

The choice is not clearly indicated in these two poems, but in the 
third, Comus, Milton unmistakably takes sides. In the figure of 
Comus we have undoubtedly sketched allegorically the depths to 
which the court vices of the time were inevitably leading. Comus 
speaks some of the most beautiful poetry that Milton, or any other 
English poet, ever wrote in praise of beauty and a Hfe of pleasure. 
A sip from the glass Comus offered the lady would bring rest and 
dehght. But by the glass is clearly typified sin, and the gift is scorn- 
fully rejected. The ease and pleasure sung and celebrated by courtiers 
and poets, like Comus' glass, though full of promise to those who 
indulge, bring nothing but ugHness and deformity of character. So 



JOHN MILTON, 83 

Milton, the poet who knew the best in Cavaher and Puritan, chose 
the latter, for in it only he saw the beauty of Virtue. 

Mortals, that would follow me 
Love Virtue; she alone is free. 
She can teach ye how to climb 
Higher than the sphery chime; 
Or, if Virtue feeble were. 
Heaven itself would stoop to her. 

If Comus marks his final break from the ideals of court poets, and 
its meaning — if we need mention what is obvious — is the degrading 
power of sin, in Lycidas he gives us an approximate date for his final 
break from the EstabHshed Enghsh Church. Milton was at first 
intended for the church. But he came to see clearly the corrupting 
influences at work in it, and above all the insincerity of many of its 
ministers. So he wrote into this poem what is perhaps the sharpest 
satire in the English language. Milton was never more a Puritan 
than when he wrote this poem. He had selected for himself the Puri- 
tan ideal of Duty instead of the ideal of Pleasure that had grown up 
since the Renaissance. 

And now, finally, a word about reading these poems. To be appre- 
ciated fully they must be read aloud. Milton understood fully the 
musical power of words, and every Hne he wrote has its subtle har- 
mony. At first his language may seem a little quaint, and his meaning 
obscure, chiefly on accouat of the numerous classical allusions. But 
if these be understood, and that is the purpose of the notes (and 
where the notes seem insuflicient a classical dictionary can be appealed 
to), the poems after a second or third reading will grow on the reader. 
It will be like the breaking of day on an exquisite landscape, at first 
the objects are indistinct in the twilight, but with the first rays of 
the sun the whole picture stands revealed in its full glory. 



SUGGESTED QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION. 

1. Changes in political conditions between 1600 and 1650. 

2. What is Puritanism? 

3. How may Milton be called a Puritan Poet? 

4. Analysis of the poems L^ Allegro and // Fenseroso. 



84 JOHN MILTON. 

5. Compare and contrast the poems. 

6. Plot of Comus. 

7. Dramatic and undramatic elements in Comtis, 

8. Purpose of the lyrics in Comus. 

9. Examples of beautiful imagery in Comus. 

10. What are the Puritan and what the Classical elements in 
Comus? 

11. Analysis oi Lycidas. 

12. FuntaLTiism in Lycidas. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

The works mentioned in this list are quite within the grasp of pupils 
of secondary school age. 

Garnett, Life of Milton {Great Writers Series). 
Pattison, Life of Milton (English Men of Letters Series), 
Corson, Introduction to Milton, 
Raleigh, Milton. 
Macaulay, Essay on Milton. 



A HISTORY OF ENGLISH 
LITERATURE 

By REUBEN POST HALLECK, M.A. (Yale), 
Louisville Male High School, Price, ;J)I.2 5 



HALLECK'S HISl'ORY OF ENGLISH LIT- 
ERATURE traces the development of that litera- 
ture from the earliest times to the present in a 
concise, interesting, and stimulating manner. Although the 
subject is presented so clearly that it can be readily com- 
prehended by high school pupils, the treatment is sufficiently 
philosophic and suggestive for any student beginning the 
study. 

^ The book i^ a history of literature, and not a mere col- 
lection of biographical sketches. Only enough of the facts 
of an author's life are given to make students interested in 
him as a personality, and to show how his environment 
affected his work. Each author's productions, their rela- 
tions to the age, and the reasons why they hold a position 
in literature, receive adeqyate treatment. 
^ One of the most striking features of the work consists in 
the way in which literary movements are clearly outlined at 
the beginning of each chapter. Special attention is given to 
the essential qualities which difFerentiale one period from 
another, and to the animating spirit of each age. The author 
shows that each period has contributed something definite 
to the literature of England. 

^ At the end of each chapter a carefully prepared list of 
books is given to direct the student in studying the original 
works of the authors treated. He is told not only what to 
read, but also where to find it at the least cost. The book 
contains a special literary map of England in colors. 



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INTRODUCTION TO 
AMERICAN LITERATURE 

By BRANDER MATTHEWS, A.M., LL.B., Profes- 
sor of Literature, Columbia University. Price, Ji.oo 



EX-PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT, in a most ap- 
preciative review in The Bookman, says : "The 
book is a piece of work as good of its kind as any 
American scholar has ever had in his hands. It is just 
the kind of book that should be given to a beginner, be- 
cause it will give him a clear idea of what to read, and of 
the relative importance of the authors he is to read ; yet it 
is much more than merely a book for beginners. Any 
student of the subject who wishes to do good work here- 
after must not only read Mr. Matthews' book, but must 
largely adopt Mr. Matthews' way of looking at things, 
for these simply written, unpretentious chapters are worth 
many times as much as the ponderous tomes which con- 
tain what usually passes for criticism ; and the prmciples 
upon which Mr. Matthews insists with such quiet force 
and good taste are those which must be adopted, not 
only by every student of American writings, but by every 
American writer, if he is going to do what is really worth 
doing. ... In short, Mr. Matthews has produced 
an admirable book, both in manner and matter, and has 
made a distinct addition to the very literature of which he 
writes." 

^ The book is amply provided with pedagogical features. 
Each chapter includes questions for review, bibliograph- 
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at the end o^ the volume is a brief chronology of American 
literature. 



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WRITTEN AND ORAL 
COMPOSITION 

By MARTIN W. SAMPSON, Professor of English, 
Cornell University ; and ERNEST O. HOLLAND, 
Professor of Secondary Education, Indiana University. 

|o.8o 



THIS is the first book to provide a complete course 
in composition, both w^ritten and oral, with due stress 
on each part of the work. Both in theory and in 
practice, the present volume tends to strengthen English 
instruction at its weakest point, the pupiP s use of spoken 
language. It is sensible, workable, and free from ped- 
antry, and is particularly suited to a heterogeneous ele- 
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^ Besides the unique feature of combining written and 
oral work, the book contains many original devices for 
stimulating the pupil's interest in his own composition. 
Perhaps, too, no textbook on composition has ever been 
put together with a more scrupulous regard for the teacher's 
own needs. The lessons are so planned as to distribute 
the written work evenly throughout the year, so that the 
task of theme-correcting is lightened as much as possible. 
The experienced teacher will find in the complete series of 
alternative lessons abundant opportunities to emphasize spe- 
cial points, and the inexperienced teacher will find in the 
specific directions for each lesson as definite a guide to 
successful teaching as a textbook alone can furnish. Every 
lesson in the book has been made to stand a four-fold test; 
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dull student, the expert teacher, and the novice. 



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NINETEENTH CENTURY 
ENGLISH PROSE 

Critical Essays 

Edited with Introductions and Notes by THOMAS H. 
DICKINSON, Ph.D., and FREDERICK W, ROE, 
A.M., Assistant Professors of EngUsh, University of 
Wisconsin. Price, ^i.oo. 



THIS book for college classes presents a series of ten 
selected essays, which are intended to trace the 
development of English criticism in the nineteenth 
century. The essays cover a definite period, and exhibit 
the individuality of each author's method of criticism. In 
each case they are those most typical of the author's crit- 
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critical tendencies of his age. The subject-matter provides 
interesting material for intensive study and class room dis- 
cussion, and each essay is an example of excellent, though 
varying, style. 

^ They represent not only the authors who write, but 
the authors who are treated. The essays provide the 
best things that have been said by England's critics on Swift, 
on Scott, on Macaulay, and on Emerson. 

^ The introductions and notes provide the necessary bio- 
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in stimulating discussion of the form or content of the essays, 
and such aids as will eliminate those matters of detail that 
might prove stumbling blocks to the student. Though the 
essays are in chronological order, they may be treated at 
random according to the purposes of the teacher. 



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INTRODUCTORY COURSE 
IN EXPOSITION 

By FRANCES M. PERRY, Associate Professor of 
Rhetoric and Composition, Wellesley College. 

^i.oo 



EXPOSITION is generally admitted to be the most 
commonly used form of discourse, and its successful 
practice develops keen observation, deliberation, 
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Unfortunately, however, expository courses often fail to 
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because the subject has been presented in an unsystem- 
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The student will acquire from its study a clear under- 
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definition and analysis ; its three functions impersonal 
presentation or transcript, interpretation, and interpretative 
presentation ; and the special application of exposition in 
literary criticism. He will also gain, through the practice 
required by the course, facility in writing in a clear and 
attractive way the various types of exposition. The 
volume includes an interesting section on literary criticism. 
^ The method used is direct exposition, amply reinforced 
by examples and exercises. The illustrative matter is 
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necessarily modern. The book meets the needs of 
students in the final years of secondary schools, or the 
first years of college. 



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THE MASTERY OF BOOKS 

By HARRY LYMAN KOOPMAN, A.M., Librarian 

of Brown University. Price, 90 cents 



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as an adviser, presents to the student at the outset the 
advantages of reading, and the great field of literature 
open to the reader's choice. He takes counsel with the 
student as to his purpose, capacities, and opportunities in 
reading, and aims to assist him in following such methods 
and in turning to such classes of books as will farther the 
attainment of his object. 

^ Pains are taken to provide the young student from the 
beginning with a knowledge, often lacking in older readers, 
of the simplest literary tools — reference books and cata- 
logues. An entire chapter is given to the discussion of 
the nature and value of that form of printed matter which 
forms the chief reading of the modern world — periodical 
literature. Methods of note- taking and of mnemonics 
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chapter is devoted to language study. 

^ One of the most valuable chapters in the volume to 
most readers is that concerning courses of reading. In 
accordance with the author's new plan for the guidance 
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is given, comprising the most valuable works in reference 
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folk-lore, biography, history, travels, , sociology, natural 
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literatures. The latest and best editions are specified, and 
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COMMERCIAL GEOGRAPHY 

$1.25 

By HENRY GANNETT, Geographer of the United States Geologi- 
cal Survey and the Twelfth Census 5 CARL L. GARRISON, 
Principal of the Morgan School, Washington, D. C. 5 and 
EDWIN J. HOUSTON, Emeritus Professor of Physical Geo- 
graphy and Physics, Central High School, Philadelphia. 



IN this book commercial geography is presented in a sim- 
ple, methodical, and logical way, to the end that its 
study shall be not only informative, but truly educa- 
tive and worth while. The treatment is divided into three 
parts: Commercial Conditions; Commercial Products; and 
Commercial Countries. The first portion gives a clear, 
brief statement of the physical, social, and economic con- 
ditions that largely influence commerce in every region. 
^ The second part treats of the cultivation of the soil, and 
of the vegetable, animal, and mineral products that enter 
commerce. The great commercial staples are taken up sepa- 
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percentage of the world's product suppHed by each of the 
chief contributing countries. 

^ The final and largest division is devoted to a careful de- 
scription of each of the countries of the earth with special 
reference to its industries and commerce. Maps of the 
countries indicate the location of the chief industrial cen- 
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tables of imports and exports, etc., are also numerous. 
The present condition of the world's commerce is care- 
fully and accurately portrayed. 



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GREEK AND ROMAN 
HISTORIES 

By WILLIAM C. MOREY, Professor of History and 

Political Science, University of Rochester 

Each, gi.oo 



MOREY'S OUTLINES OF GREEK HISTORY, 
which is introduced by a brief sketch of the pro- 
gress of civilization before the time of the Greeks 
among the Oriental peoples, pays greater attention to the 
civilization of ancient Greece than to its political history. 
The author has endeavored to illustrate by facts the most 
important and distinguishing traits of the Grecian char- 
acter; to explain why the Greeks failed to develop a 
national state system, although successful to a consider- 
able extent in developing free institutions and an organized 
city state; and to show the great advance made by the 
Greeks upon the previous culture of the Orient. 
^] MOREY'S OUTLINES OF ROMAN HISTORY 
gives the history of Rome to the revival of the empire by 
Charlemagne. Only those facts and events which illus- 
trate the real character of the Roman people, which show 
the progressive development, of Rome as a world power, 
and which explain the influence that Rome has exercised 
upon modern civilization, have been emphasized. The 
genius of the Romans for organization, which gives them 
their distinctive place in history, is kept prominently in 
mind, and the kingdom, the republic, and the empire are 
seen to be but successive stages in the growth of a policy 
to bring together and organize the various elements of the 
ancient world. 



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ESSENTIALS IN ENGLISH 
HISTORY 

From the Earliest Records to the Present Day. By ALBERT 
PERRY WALKER, A.M., Master in History, Eng- 
lish High School, Boston. In consultation with 
ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, LL.D., Professor 
of History, Harvard University. Price, g 1.50 



LIKE the other volumes of the Essentials in History 
J Series, this text-book is intended to form a year's 
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of the New York State Education Department. The text 
is continuous, the sectional headings being placed in the 
margin. The maps and illustrations are worthy of special 
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^ The book is a model of good historical exposition, un- 
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development of the British Empire are vividly described, 
and the relation of cause and effect is clearly brought out, 
^ The treatment begins with a brief survey of the whole 
course of English history, deducing therefrom three general 
movements : ( i ) the fusing of several races into the Eng- 
Hsh people ; (2) the solution by the people of two great 
problems: free and democratic home government, and prac- 
tical, enlightened government of foreign dependencies; and 
( 3 ) the extreme development of two great fields of industry, 
commerce and manufacture. The narrative follows the 
chronological order, and ends with a masterly summary of 
England's contribution to civilization. 



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ADAMS'S PHYSICS 

By CHARLES F. ADAMS, A. M., Head of the Depart- 
ment of Physics, Central High School, Detroit. 



Physics for Secondary Schools (Textbook) . . $1.20 
New Physical Laboratory Manual .... .60 



THE textbook meets the demands of all college 
entrance boards, and of the New York State Syllabus. 
It is strong in the theory of physics, and is very 
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ena, and explaining the reasons for their existence. The 
book is particularly teachable. The language is simple and 
clear, and the illustrations are numerous and illuminating. 
Throughout the controlling thought has been to make the 
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^ The problems emphasize and illustrate the principles 
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and particularly interesting. 

^ The Laboratory Manual embodies the results of twelve 
years' experience in conducting laboratory work in physics. 
The 78 exercises are all simple, and the directions for man- 
ipulation clear. The College Entrance Requirements and 
the New York State Syllabus are fully covered, and there 
is enough additional matter to enable any teacher to make 
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Appendix contains general directioits for the use of appar- 
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CHEMISTRIES 



By F. W. CLARKE, Chief Chemist of the United States 
Geological Survey, and L. M. DENNIS, Professor of 
Inorganic and Analytical Chemistry, Cornell Univer- 
sity. 



Elementary Chemistry . ^i.io 



Laboratory Manual 



^o 50 



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follow the evidence upon which it rests. The application 
of the science to human affairs is also given its proper 
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the simplest character, and can be performed with home- 
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^ The LABORATORY MANUAL contains 127 ex- 
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